Shadowed Past: Tale of the Last Dragon
by Sylver-Star189
Summary: (Well, half-dragon anyway)The Fellowship is joined by a mysterious youth, who is more than he seems. Strong friendships are made. His past haunts him, will he be able to make the ultimate sacrifice for his friends (small shounen-ai)COMPLETE! YEAH!!!
1. The Fellowship meets Kalan

1 Shadowed Past, Tale of the Last Dragon…(well, half-dragon anyway)  
  
By: Kalan Gildae Dragonson Sadaya  
  
1.1 The Council of Lord Elrond, Rivendell  
  
"I will take it!" a small voice called out over the din of the other's arguments. "I will take the Ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way," Frodo Baggins took the One Ring in his small hand. Gandalf the Gray turned to the halfling, his love for the hobbit shown in his eyes.  
  
"I will guide you, and help you carry this burden for as long as it is yours to bear," Frodo nodded his thanks to his old friend. One by one, others stood to join the first two. Strider the ranger, now revealed as Aragorn son of Arathorn heir to the throne of Gondor vowed to protect Frodo. Along with Boromir, the eldest son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor was Legolas son of King Thranduil of the Mirkwood elves and Gimli son of Gloin of the dwarves. Also joining Frodo on his quest was his friends from the Shire: Samwise, or "Sam" Gamgee, Meriadoc "Merry" Brandybuck, and Peregrin "Pippin" Took.  
  
Lord Elrond looked upon the group, a rag-tag bunch of unlikely heroes thrown together by fate. It was then his sensitive ears picked up a sound of flapping wings, and a familiar presence touched his mind.  
  
"Woah, hold on, I'm coming," a voice called out, not far off. Light feet running, a gasp and groan of pain. Elrond grimaced, knowing all to well what the pain was, but he said nothing.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir had drawn their swords and now held them ready. But all blinked in surprise as a young man, actually more like a teenager strode into the council area.  
  
He was actually quite small for a human, no more than five and a half feet tall. Dressed in plain black pants and black leather boots that came to mid-calf. On top he wore a distinctly elven-made shirt, black with gray weaving and embroidery. Also he wore a long gray cloak, it seemed that it had been hastily put on because it was hanging unevenly over one shoulder and the boy was still clasping it at the neck. He had shoulder length black hair, falling in messy waves, the wind blowing it into his eyes. His eyes! Such a strange color they were – silver. Frodo felt like he was drowning in those eyes, he could feel a secret fire lurking just behind the cool silver. The youth blinked, breaking the spell and nodded to the other council members before turning to Elrond.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, there was a bit of trouble along the northern border." He smiled at the elf-lord, who did the same, as if sharing a private joke.  
  
"I trust all is well?" Elrond asked, the other nodded.  
  
"Of course," he said nonchalantly, then paused when Elrond gave him a strange look, "What? You have absolutely no faith in me, you know that?" he threw his hands up in mock exasperation. Elrond laughed.  
  
"Of course I have faith in you, Kalan, I just hope you are not taking unnecessary risks," he smiled warmly. Kalan, so the boy was called smile in return and nodded. Elrond turned to face the counsel once more.  
  
"My friends, may I introduce Kalan Gildae[1] Sadaya, Elvellon (elf- friend) of many years," Kalan nodded to each person, his strange eyes lingering on Frodo then came to rest upon the wizard. He grinned.  
  
"Gandalf the Gray, you old charlatan! Still corrupting our youth, I see?" he laughed, indicating the hobbits. Gandalf smiled and strode forward to clasp arms with the lad. He then pulled him into a tight embrace. After a few seconds the parted, and Gandalf gave the boy a good look over.  
  
"And you, you old myth, what's this I hear about you up north?" he asked with a sly smile. Kalan just shrugged.  
  
"The villagers were having trouble with some goblin raids, I decided to make an end of it," he answered, then turned away from Gandalf to look over the rest of the group. "A scraggly bunch this is," he turned back to Elrond, "Slim pickings, eh, Pointy-Ears?" he cocked on fine eyebrow at the elf-lord. But before Elrond could respond, a fuming Legolas stepped forward.  
  
"Speak with some respect to the Lord of Rivendell!" he said, a threatening tone in his voice. Kalan turned to him, amusement sparkling in the silvery depths of his eyes.  
  
"My friend elf, Legolas, isn't it? I have never in my life called him 'lord', nor have I ever spoken to anyone with respect. But never have I ever insulted him with malice in my heart," Legolas said nothing more, but did not move back. Elrond placed a hand on the other elf's shoulder.  
  
"It is true, Legolas, he meant no harm, only a small jest, am I correct you annoying, dim-witted child?" he smirked at Kalan who tried his best to cover a laugh at the look on Legolas' face. Never had the prince heard Lord Elrond speak to someone like that. But it was clear that the two were only joking with each other and that calmed his temper. He nodded and stepped back to where he previously stood.  
  
~I am guessing you want me to go with them on this quest? ~ a voice asked inside Elrond's head. He mentally nodded.  
  
~Yes, they need you if they are to succeed. The Ring must be destroyed, or all of Middle-earth shall be covered in a second darkness, ~ he answered then, he 'saw' a frown.  
  
~You know I hate darkness, ~ a pause, then, ~Very well, it seems I have no other choice. You and Gandalf haven't told them anything about me, have you? ~ Elrond 'shook' his 'head'. ~Good, I don't want them knowing anything too soon, they would not understand. I will go, I will make sure the Ring is destroyed. ~ Then both he and Kalan turned their attentions back to the counsel. The mental conversation had only lasted a few seconds, so no one seemed to notice.  
  
"Kalan will be joining you on this quest. He is a trusted friend and beneficial ally," declared Elrond. Boromir shook his head and stepped forward.  
  
"He is naught but a boy," he countered, "He would only get himself or all of us killed." Then, turning to Kalan, "Go back to your mother, child," and turned away. But something dangerous flashed in Kalan's silver eyes. He grabbed the man's arm, turning him as if he were the child.  
  
"My mother is dead, Boromir, do not speak of her to me," he said in a low, deceptively calm voice, "And if it is my skill and experience that worries you, I have had more battles than you could have in five lifetimes," he released the man and turned away. Boromir opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the lad, who did not even turn around. "Just leave it at that," was all he said and he walked over to a winding stone pillar and leaned against it. His silver eyes were no longer sparkling, but dull and sad.  
  
"Time is against us, you shall leave tomorrow at first light," said Elrond as he looked upon the group. "If you are loyal and strong hearted, you will succeed. You shall be called the Fellowship of the Ring," he declared.  
  
Frodo looked at the Ring he held in his hand. There were nine other people to help him surely they must succeed. He looked up and over to the shadows where Kalan stood, he saw the boy nod then turn away, disappearing into the halls of Rivendell.  
  
* * *  
  
That night, Lord Elrond held a feast in the Fellowship's honor. Sam, Merry and Pippin were amazed by all the different types of food, still in awe of everything in Rivendell. Aragorn spoke long with Elrond and Gandalf, but the others, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli stayed to themselves and their own kind. Frodo looked around, hoping to see Kalan at the party. But the youth was nowhere to be seen. Something about the dark- haired lad confused and mesmerized the hobbit. He was young, probably no older than eighteen years, yet he had said to Boromir, that he had fought more battles than the man could in five lifetimes! It just didn't make sense.  
  
When those eyes had rested their unearthly gaze upon him, he felt a strange…something, in his heart. A great power, something old and definitely something Frodo did not wand as an enemy. And when Boromir mentioned the boy's mother, that power changed, to something dark, angry and sad. There was more to this boy, and Frodo knew it.  
  
The feast was finally dwindling down, people left at intervals. Merry and Pippin yawned and said their good-nights. Faithful Sam was falling asleep beside Frodo, snoring softly. Frodo smiled and gently shook his friend.  
  
"Sam," the other hobbit blinked his eyes open and looked at Frodo sleepily.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo, guess the day's finally caught up with me," he said sheepishly.  
  
"Why don't you go to bed then?" offered Frodo.  
  
"Are you coming?" asked Sam. Frodo smiled and shook his head.  
  
"No, I want to stay up a while and look around some more," he answered, "But you go on, I wont be long," he added when Sam began to protest. Sam nodded and stood up. He said a polite 'thank-you' to Elrond and the elves then retired to his bed.  
  
Frodo did the same but left through a different doorway, leading to one of the may beautiful gardens that were strewn throughout Rivendell. He walked the paths for a while admiring the plants and small waterfalls.  
  
A glint of metal caught his eye off to one side, and he stepped off the path. He followed the shine to the edge of a small clearing. There, framed in moonlight, was Kalan.  
  
The youth had doffed his shirt and boots, wearing only his loose trousers. Against the backdrop of a waterfall he stood, perfectly still. Frodo wasn't even sure he was breathing. His eyes were closed and before him he held a sword, its blade flashing in the moonlight was what had caught the hobbit's eye. The sword was not all that big, in fact it was quite slim and light, definitely elven-made. Kalan held the blade parallel to his body, perfectly still and silent.  
  
Frodo was about to make his presence known when the silver eyes opened and the lithe body leapt into motion. The hobbit's breath caught in his throat, never had he seen anything so beautiful and graceful as what he was watching now.  
  
Kalan leapt and spun, ducked and kicked, spinning and thrusting the sword in a ceaseless dance. The moonlight glinted off the blade, hypnotizing Frodo. Kalan spun on one foot, rolling his wrist with sword in a mock parry. It was then that Frodo realized that Kalan was not dancing at all; he was fighting! Training, exercising, practicing these graceful, precise movements that years of repeating had imprinted into his memory. He concentrated so hard, yet moved so effortlessly…  
  
Frodo shifted his weight, accidentally cracking a twig under his foot. Instantly, Kalan spun toward the noise, the blade gliding in a deadly arc toward the unprepared hobbit. The sword stopped dead still before slicing his head neatly from his shoulders. Frodo, too frightened to move, felt the cold steel on the skin on his throat. It neither drew blood nor drew away.  
  
Frodo looked up at the sword's wielder. Kalan blinked his eyes, recognition flickering in their depths. The blade was drawn away from the shaken hobbit and Kalan crouched down to be closer to Frodo's level.  
  
"Frodo Baggins, you must not sneak up on me like that, especially while I am exercising. You could have just lost your head," the youth half- smiled and stood, turning away from Frodo.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he looked down sheepishly, "You just mesmerized me with your sword work," he admitted. Kalan looked over his shoulder at the hobbit.  
  
"It's all right, just be careful not to repeat your mistake, it may be you last," he said and knelt at the edge of a small pool. He bent, cupping some water in his hands and splashing it on his face. As he did this, the moonlight illuminated his tanned back.  
  
Frodo's eyes widened, his gaze roved over a mess of criss-crossing scars that marred the skin of the boy's back. Most were very old, but two in particular, one on each shoulder blade, were fresh and livid. They looked to be about three days old. They looked like wounds that kept re- opening…  
  
Frodo blinked out of his reverie as Kalan stood, facing him once more. Frodo tried to hide the fact that he had been staring, but the sharp silver eyes caught him.  
  
Kalan frowned, then reached over and grasped his shirt, which lay to one side. He pulled this on over his head, then followed with his boots. In all this time, neither said anything; Kalan did not meet the hobbit's gaze. It was Frodo who decided that something ought to be said. HE stepped quietly and calmly over to the rock where Kalan sat lacing up his boots. Frodo sat down beside him, if the boy noticed this, he showed no sign. The hobbit spoke in a soft, calm voice.  
  
"What happened?" he asked. Kalan tensed, his fingers ceased their tying. Frodo felt him breathe deeply beside him.  
  
"It was a long time ago," was all he answered and continued his task without looking at the hobbit. But Frodo was not about to give up that easily.  
  
"I can see that, but it also seems to me that it still hurts you, inside. I saw your face when you knew I had seen them," Frodo placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I'll listen if you want to talk –"  
  
"Frodo Baggins," he was cut off by a sharp voice, Kalan turned his silvery gaze to him, and for one instant Frodo saw a world of pain, loss, fear and anger, a child forced to grow up in a harsh world too soon. Frightened and alone, lost in a sea of dispair. But it was only for a moment, Kalan blinked and his eyes were once again cool, silver mirrors. "You have the fate of the world hanging around your neck. I suggest you forget everything you just saw, go to your bed and sleep." Kalan shifted out from under his hand and stood.  
  
Frodo did the same, and they just looked at each other. Finally, Frodo nodded and turned to leave. When he reached the edge of the clearing, he turned back once more.  
  
"Kalan, I'm glad you're coming with us. Something in my heart tells me we need you," and with that, left.  
  
After the halfling and gone, Kalan turned to face the waterfall, just staring into it. After a few seconds a tear ran down his cheek, followed by another, than more till the boy was crying silently.  
  
A figure moved out of the shadows, coming to stand behind the boy. Elrond wrapped his arms around the slightly shaking form, holding him close.  
  
"Gildae, amin hiraetha,"(1)[2] he whispered into his ear, "If I had known this would happen, I would have never summoned you here," these words broke something in the boy, his silver mirrors shattered and he turned in the elf's embrace till he was crying against his shoulder.  
  
Elrond said nothing more, just held him as he cries. The elf-lord remembered when they had been in this same position so many years ago. The boy had just been brought to Rivendell, his physical wounds healed but his heart was still bleeding. Elrond had held him just like this that day, as the child cried out his pain, loss, fear and anger. It had taken many long years for Kalan to come to terms with the pain inside, though he had never fully healed from it and never would. But through the gentleness and loving care of Elrond, the ugly wound in his heart healed till it became just a dull pain. Now and again it was surface with the ferocity of a summer storm: like now.  
  
Kalan's sobs began to diminish, but Elrond did not yet release him. The boy coughed and sniffed.  
  
"No," he choked out," No, I'm glad you did. The hobbit is right," he pushed away, looking up at the elf, "they need me," and then he lowered his head again to Elrond's shoulder.  
  
Elrond gently eased them both down to the rock Kalan once occupied. He shifted a bit, resting Kalan's head more comfortably on his shoulder. The boy continued, "When Boromir brought up my mother, it started, that's why I did not come to the feast tonight. Then when the hobbit came and saw…that, it took all my strength not to break in front of him," he finished.  
  
Elrond nodded, understanding. He knew how painful the thought of his mother still was, the memory of her and what happened so many years ago still haunted the boy in his dreams.  
  
"I know, and if I know you, by tomorrow you will have yourself under control and go on with them like nothing has happened, hm?" he looked down at Kalan who smiled softly.  
  
"Yes, because I have to," he pushed away from the elf, looking solemnly into his eyes, "I swore I would see the destruction of the Ring and I will, even if it costs me my own life. I don't mind anymore, I have already lived more that my share of lifetimes, over one and a half thousand years I think,"  
  
Elrond nodded again, knowing how the youth, or youth only in appearances, felt about death. The boy had been like a son to him, much like Aragorn, though long before the Dunadain. He dreaded losing the boy as he dreaded losing Aragorn or any of his children. But he knew that if the Fellowship was to succeed, Kalan must go with them. And if the quest failed and Sauron got hold of the Ring once more, Kalan was the only being strong enough to challenge the Dark Lord's power.  
  
Elrond reached out and drew Kalan near. Gently, he kissed his forehead, then laid the boy's head down upon his lap. Slowly, caressing, he stroked the messy ebony waves, projecting thoughts of love to the boy who had become so close to the ancient elf's heart. "Quel kaima,"(2)[3] It was in this way that Kalan fell asleep.  
  
* * *  
  
----------------------- [1] Gildae: Kalan's Elven name, translated as "Star-Shadow"  
  
[2] 1) Gildae, I'm sorry  
  
[3] 2) Sleep well 


	2. The Journey Begins

Chapter 2  
  
The Journey Begins  
  
The next morning the Fellowship gathered at the gates of Rivendell. Elrond was there to see them off, along with his children and a host of other elves. The group did not carry much, just food, clothing and camp gear. Each person also carried his weapon of choice.  
  
Kalan was the last to arrive, carrying a small pack and his sword. He nodded to Elrond then to his companions. Elrond smiled, then spoke.  
  
"Your journey is dangerous, but your hearts are strong. Be true to each other and to your own hearts, and you shall succeed." His eyes lighted on each of them. "Nai tiruiantel ar vanovantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya (1)," he added.  
  
~Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'~ a soft, deep and familiar voice said in Kalan's head. ~Namaarie, Gildae, (2)~  
  
~Tenna' Tul're, heruamin, (3)~  
  
Without speaking, the Fellowship turned and left through the gates, out of the fair elven city. They would take a course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days.  
  
The second week into the journey, and not much had hindered the Fellowship. They had not much to eat, so they rationed out what they had. However, unbeknownst to the group, Kalan divided up his portion between the halflings. The fifteenth night, Gimli noticed that the boy was not eating.  
  
"You should eat something, young Kalan. We all need our strength in the days ahead," said the dwarf gruffly. Kalan turned to him. It just then dawned on the rest of them that Kalan had not been eating for a while. The hobbits looked down at their food, just then noticing the extra portions. Aragorn stood and joined Kalan on the other side of the fire.  
  
"Kalan, we are all equal here, you need nourishment to keep going," he said quietly. Kalan smiled up at the man.  
  
"That's where you are wrong. I don't. I have been doing this ever since the start of our journey. I do not need food like you do, and the hobbits need more to keep going. No one is harmed, they are helped, there is no need to worry about me, Aragorn." He answered, calmly and very neutrally.  
  
"How is that possible?" the man asked, "Fourteen days without food! You should be dead!" he exclaimed. Kalan smiled again, a secret smile.  
  
"Yes, and if I was like you I would be, if I was like you I should have died over one thousand years ago. But I am not like you," he said simply, as if that explained everything and he turned back to the forest, piercing the darkness with his silver gaze. Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but Kalan cut him off. "We all have our secrets, Aragorn. No I am not an elf, nor am I even half-elven. My secrets are mine to keep, don't ask questions to which you do not want to know the answer," and that was that, his tone allowed no rebuttal. None spoke of it again, not that night, anyway.  
  
Kalan took first watch as the others slept. Out of his pocket he took a small wooden flute, ornately decorated with carved symbols and elvish designs. Kalan placed his nimble fingers over the holes along the top and brought the instrument to his lips.  
  
Legolas watched the boy, feigning the sleep of elves (eyes open). A quiet, low note floated out from the flute, gently rising in crescendo. Kalan moved his fingers slowly over the holes, changing the tones, a beautiful song formed from the simple tube. The music had an edge of contentment and relaxation, love and happiness. Though not jovial or excited, but more quiet and laid-back. The music began to take hold of the elf, the taut muscles in his back and legs relaxing. His neck loosened and his mind became untroubled.  
  
Legolas looked over to the sleeping hobbits, huddled close together under their blankets. Sam, who normally slept fitfully and frowning, wore a peaceful expression on his face. The others were almost the same.  
  
The music changed slightly, almost imperceptibly, becoming lower then finally dropping off into oblivion on the last note. Kalan took the flute from his lips, his silver eyes closed and he sighed. Opening his eyes he looked around at the group and he nodded with satisfaction, then put the flute away.  
  
Legolas stood, gracefully and walked silently around the fire, joining Kalan on the ground. For a while neither said anything, then Legolas spoke.  
  
"That was beautiful, where did you learn it?" he asked in a hushed voice. Kalan turned his silver gaze to the elf beside him.  
  
"I didn't. Like the elves, I can play my feelings, and I felt like that," he said, pointing over the sleeping figures. Legolas nodded, understanding. There was a few more minutes of companionable silence, then Legolas could contain himself no more.  
  
"Kalan, what are you?" he asked, his keen eyes saw the boy tense, "You are not a man, for you need no food and say you are over one thousand years old. Yet you are not an elf," he reached out and brushed the dark hair back from the boy's face, revealing a small, human-like ear. "I feel your power, strange and old, in you. I can see the fire that burns in your silver eyes," his hand moved to brush a few strands of hair out of those eyes. He felt Kalan flinch and shift away from his questing hand. Legolas let his hand drop, but his eyes remained fixed on the boy. "the other are concerned that you are something...unnatural," he said in a low voice.  
  
Kalan smirked, ironically, "Then they are more perceptive than I give them credit for," he said. He finally raised his gaze to look at the fair elf. "Legolas, all you need to know is hat I am here to help the Fellowship to destroy the One Ring. Who or what I am bears no precedence over this quest. But, for your comfort, I shall explain a few things," he settled back against a tree, then continued. "Before you, you see a human boy, possibly no older that eighteen years old. But my mind is older than even the elves. My mind and heart hold the memories of even before the creation of Middle-Earth." He paused watching the elf's reaction, then continued, "They are memories passed down to each generation of my race, from the oldest of my ancestors. They came to me from my father, though I never knew him," Kalan paused then as if held back by something.  
  
"Kalan, are you all right?" asked the elf. When the youth did not respond, Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder, gently. Kalan blinked, as if coming out of a dream.  
  
"I'm sorry, Legolas. I've already said too much. If you are to know about me and my kind, then the Fates will decide when to reveal all," he looked back at the fire and the conversation was ended.  
  
* * *  
  
After being thwarted from their passage south by spies of Saruman, the Fellowship decided to take the pass of Caradhras through the Misty Mountains.  
  
The wind howled and chilled dramatically, it swept their cloaks about them. The sudden blizzard had caught them off-guard. With Gandalf leading and Legolas with his keen elven eyes, they made their way toward the mountain.  
  
The snowstorm increased its furry until even Legolas could only see a few feet. There was nothing to be seen around them; they couldn't even see the mountains anymore.  
  
"We should go back!" Boromir called from where he led the pony, Bill ((long live Bill!)). "Go back and wait out the storm!" Aragorn turned to call back to him, but a faint cracking sound came to their ears, barely heard above the wind. Everyone stopped, fear growing in their eyes.  
  
Aragorn looked down at his feet, and he nudged some snow away with his foot. It was ice! And it was swiftly cracking under his weight.  
  
"Aragorn, look out!" Frodo yelled and launched himself at the man, and just as the ice broke he shoved him away, but fell into the hole himself.  
  
"Frodo!" they screamed as the small figure disappeared. The other three hobbits crowded around the hole where he had fallen. Kalan grabbed them each by the collar and pulled them back.  
  
"Lay flat, crawl to the edge!" he yelled and pointed to one side. Quickly he tore off his shirt and kicked off his boots.  
  
"But what about Frodo?" Sam screamed. But Kalan did not answer, for he dove into the frigid waters after the hobbit.  
  
"Do as he says!" cried Gandalf. Boromir had already pulled the pony in that direction and was waiting for the others.  
  
A small cave, but big enough to hold all of them, was in the side of the mountain. Pippin rushed inside, shaking from fear and cold.  
  
"What about Frodo?" he asked. Gandalf stood, and looked back out into the storm.  
  
"It's in Kalan's hands now," he said.  
  
*  
  
Kalan couldn't feel his body; the freezing waters stole his warmth along with his breath. The current pulled him downward but he swam in the direction the hobbit would have gone.  
  
His sharp silver eyes searched the depths for any sign of Frodo. Suddenly, he spotted a smaller figure kicking madly toward the surface.  
  
Kalan reached out and grabbed Frodo around the waist and swam tot the surface. Kalan hit at the ice with his palm. Fortunately, he found a small pocket of air between the water and the ice. He forced Frodo's head up and pushed his face against the ice, letting him breathe.  
  
Holding the hobbit close, Kalan swung his fist at the ice. Nothing. The he swung again, a slight crack formed and with it the water turned a slight pinkish color. Kalan grunted and swung again, the crack widened and his knuckles poured blood.  
  
Frodo felt the world darkening around the edges of his vision. He began to go limp. Kalan noticed and shoved him up for another breath in the pocket. He slapped Frodo, forcing him back to consciousness.  
  
Kalan swung again his fist connecting with the ice. Overhead, he could see forms hovering over the ice. Kalan hit at the ice again, his hand now a bleeding mess. A small chuck flew out and Kalan pushed Frodo to the hole allowing him to breathe once more. He hit and hit at the hole until it was large enough to push the hobbit through.  
  
Waiting there was Gandalf, Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas. The wizard and Aragorn took the hobbit, who was barely conscious, his skin a bit blue. Kalan gasped, coughing up water, his arms shaking from strain and cold. He hung there on the edge for a moment and was about to haul himself out when something wrapped around his leg.  
  
Kalan screamed as something sharp pierced his calf through. Legolas set an arrow to his bow as Boromir reached for Kalan, but the boy was pulled back under.  
  
"No!" Frodo cried, just coming to in time to see Kalan disappear. Aragorn handed the shaking hobbit to his friends and also took out his bow. Legolas was searching the dark waters with his elven eyes, trying to find Kalan and what had attacked him.  
  
Under the water Kalan struggled and kicked at the thing on his leg. It seemed to be like a tentacle with a large stinger at the end. His bleeding hand must have attracted some creature from the depths. His air was running out and cold had numbed his entire body. Feebly, he struggled, his strength fading. `I can't die here! The Ring must be destroyed, they still need me!' he thought.  
  
Suddenly, something sped past him, mere inches from his nose. The tentacle quivered and loosened its hold. Another...arrow, his dim mind faintly registered, went by. It struck the beast and the stinger drew out of his leg.  
  
Kalan, now free, began to swim upward, but his leg and hand were bleeding heavily and his vision was darkening. Just as he was about to pass out, a glowing rod shot into the water right in front of his face. He reached out and grasped it...the wood seemed familiar. It took the last of his strength to hold on as someone pulled him to the surface.  
  
Kalan broke through the water, gasping. Strong hands grabbed him under his arms and hauled him out of the frigid water. He looked up, his vision was blurry, and colors were running together. Vaguely he made out the faced of Aragorn and Legolas. He looked to the right and saw Gandalf standing there, his staff held a glow, but it was fading swiftly.  
  
Voices, someone was speaking, but he didn't know whom. He could barely make out what they were saying.  
  
"Get him...cave...quickly!" he then felt himself being lifted, he was slung over someone's shoulder. Kalan was too cold and weak to protest.  
  
Suddenly, he was lying in a cave, a large fire to his right. The heat just barely penetrating his cold skin. On the other side he saw three small figures huddled around a fourth, who was shivering. One pushed a steaming mug into the shivering one's hands. Faintly, his mind registered. He pushed up, not even noticing the hands on his own benumbed skin. He struggled to see.  
  
"Frodo," he managed to croak out, was that his voice? "Is Frodo all right? Tell - tell me..." his voice broke off as he began to shiver violently. Aragorn gently, but firmly, pushed him back down, placing layers of blankets and cloaks over his body.  
  
"Frodo's fine, hush now, let us care for you," he said in a quiet tone that demanded obedience. Kalan rested his head back, someone had placed a soft bundle under his head. He closed his eyes, barely feeling the hands on him through his frozen skin.  
  
"We have to get that bleeding stopped, hand me some cloth," someone was saying, a hand gently cradled his injured one.  
  
"That thing may have been poisonous," the same voice. Another hand was on his leg, tearing his pants to see the wound. Fingers touched the wound.  
  
"No, no traces of an poison. But he's lost too much blood - Ow! Damn!" someone cursed and the hands moved away. Kalan's eyes shot open.  
  
"No! Don't touch my blood!" his head fell back weakly, "Don't...burn you..."his eyes closed once more. Aragorn put on his leather gloves before continuing.  
  
Kalan faded into oblivion as they worked.  
  
* * *  
  
Hehe...left you with a cliffhanger, don't you just hate me! Thanks to all who reviewed, love ya all!! Hope you are liking the story, `tis my first posting, yep I'm a newbie ;) Keep up the reviews, your comments are greatly appreciated. Next chapter: learn more about Kalan's past!  
  
1)Elvish farewell: "May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky,"  
  
2) My heart shall weep until it sees thee again. Farewell, Gildae,"  
  
3) Until then, my lord, 


	3. Interlude

Chapter 3  
  
Interlude  
  
**My apologies to my readers, for not updating in QUITE a while, all my tying was lost and I am very busy during the weeks. Unfortunately, unless the Fates are with me, you shall not see more until at least one or two more weeks. Thanks and love you all! ~Silver-Kalan**  
  
Frodo came to, listening to the crackling fire, his muscles felt stiff, but he was no longer cold. Someone had placed a pile of blankets over him as he slept.  
  
Opening his eyes the hobbit looked around. Merry and Pippin were curled together on the other side of the fire. To his right was Sam, his head nodding slowly onto his chest.  
  
Frodo smiled and tried to sit up, the slight movement startled Sam awake and he looked down at his friend.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, you're awake," he said, joyously but in a hushed tone. Sam bent over and helped his master sit up. "How do you feel?" he asked.  
  
"Not cold anymore, just a bit stiff," he answered, and graciously took a cup of tea that was offered to him.  
  
"Well, I should think so, Mr. Frodo, you've been sleepin' all day and half the night," he said. Frodo was surprised but the just shook his head and sipped his tea. Then a sudden thought came to him and he grasped Sam's arms.  
  
"What about Kalan Sam? Is he all right?" he asked anxiously. At this Sam's face fell and he looked over his shoulder, nodding toward one side. Frodo shifted to look around him, his eyes went wide.  
  
"Oh no," he breathes and crawled over the where Kalan lay, Sam close behind. He knelt beside the prone form his eyes searching the boy's face.  
  
Kalan lay still under his blankets; his face was so pale that it could have been transparent. His skin was clammy and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Kalan's breath came in ragged gasps. Frodo's sharp eyes caught the rapid eye movement of dreams under his lids. Now and again a small moan or whimper would escape his lips, betraying the painful nature of those dreams.  
  
His gaze moved downward and he caught sight of the bandaged hand. Gently, the hobbit took the injured hand in his own, softly stroking the limp fingers, his eyes turned sad.  
  
"He saved me, Sam," he whispered, "he did this trying to break through the ice. He let me use up all the air, took none for himself. He nearly died for me," he laid the hand back down and covered it with a blanket.  
  
Sam watched his master and good friend for a moment before answering. "That he nearly did, Mr. Frodo. But Gandalf said that he should be fine with another day's rest. Surprisingly, his wounds have already healed much." His eyebrows rose to punctuate his words. He put an arm around Frodo's thin shoulders. "He'll be fin, Mr. Frodo, I'm sure of it," Frodo smiled and nodded. There was a grunt from the mouth of the cave that made the two hobbits jump.  
  
"Well, it is good to see you away, Master Baggins," said Gimli gruffly, he sat near the entrance his axe near his hand. "That one has yet to awaken, but he will soon, I suppose."  
  
"Gimli where are the others?" Frodo asked, just then noticing there were only six of the company in the cave.  
  
"Aragorn and that crazy elf are out looking for more food, Boromir is patrolling and no one knows where that blasted wizard is!" he said exasperated.  
  
Frodo nodded and yawned, he felt sleepy again but he was still concerned about Kalan. Sam, of course, noticed and smiled. The gardener sat down against the cave wall beside the unconscious boy.  
  
"Go on and sleep, Mr. Frodo, I'll watch him," he placed a callused hand on Kalan's forehead, smoothing back the dark hair. He looked up again at Frodo, "He asked about you, you know," he said. Frodo, who was lying back down looked back.  
  
"What?" he asked. Sam nodded.  
  
"Yes, it was the first thing he said, asking if you were all right. Like he wasn't even concerned for himself," Sam looked back down at his charge, "He's genuine, almost innocent," he mused then shook his head, smiling. "Here I am blabbering when you should be sleeping, go on, sir, all will be well," he reassured.  
  
Frodo nodded and crawled back under his blankets, promptly falling asleep. 


	4. Shadows of the Past

Chapter 4  
  
1 Shadows of the Past  
  
((Dream sequence. Hehe, I love these…))  
  
I'm slapped, hard across the face, I don't even react, I'm numb. This had been happening for …gods, I don't even remember. Days, weeks months? Suck down here in this cell, with only the rats for good company. The only time people come it was to gloat and beat me and…I shudder.  
  
But today is different. The door opens and a searing light hits my face. A group of people, men, comes in; they are towering over me. My hanging form, feet just barely brushing the floor, if naked and raw. I am small, perhaps only fifteen years old.  
  
Instead of flinching from the light as they expected, I smile into it, the light being absorbed into my body, rejuvenating me. I was slapped again, metal rings cutting into my face. The man sneered as he circled me, like a vulture. Behind me, his gloved hand touches my tortured back; the lacerations still seeping blood. I groan in pain, long since given up my façade of detachment.  
  
"Well, demon, today you are going outside." He said and hands unlock my wrists that were stretched out above my head. Without anything holding me up, I collapse to the cold stone floor.  
  
Laughter erupts. Shamed, my face burned. My arms tingled as feeling crept back into them.  
  
"Get him up," the man ordered. Rough hands haul me to my feet by my hair. The scene fades into darkness, then I am in a different place.  
  
Someone had put an old pair of ragged pants on me. Perhaps some kind soul helping me keep at least my dignity.  
  
I was not tied, but flanked on either side by tall men in dark robes. I was only my last shred of pride that kept me standing unaided.  
  
In front of me is my mother. She looked like she had gained thirty years. He dark hair had more gray in it and her face was drawn and haggard. She too had been beaten.  
  
"Whore of the demon, you will die and your demon spawn will soon follow," said the leader. My mother raised her head a bit, pride and strength coming back into her eyes. She looked down at me, her eyes filled with love and sadness.  
  
The leader raised his arm and five archers readied their bows, arrows aimed t my mother. Her eyes never left mine. ~Run, Kalan, run far from here,~  
  
The leader brought his arms down.  
  
"I love you, Kalan!" she screamed just as the five quarrels entered her body. I screamed.  
  
Outraged, I hit the men beside me with strength bond my years. I ran past my mother, past the archers and into the forest.  
  
I could hear orders being shouted for horses to chase me down. I didn't stop running; the wounds in my back began to pour blood.  
  
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. My back began to hurt, but not from the cuts, this was a dull pain, like my shoulder blades were too big.  
  
PAIN!   
  
Sam looked down, worriedly at the whimpering boy as he jerked in the throes of a dream. He also noticed a few tears seeping from under the closed lids.  
  
Pain erupts in my back and two wings, leathery and silver unfold from my shoulder blades. I shudder and look back at them, 'What?'  
  
Suddenly, I came upon a huge crevice and without thinking I leapt. The wings caught the air current and carried me safely across.  
  
I drop to the other side, collapsing with pain and shock. More pain! I scream as the wings are drawn back into my skin, folding and shrinking then disappeared, the skin folding over them once more.  
  
Horses. I hide behind a tree and cautiously look out over the crevice.  
  
"He must have fallen, you heard that scream," said one. The others nodded.  
  
"Good, don't have to worry about that demon ever again," and they left.  
  
I fall into darkness, the scene changes. I am now surrounded in another forest, I don't recognize where I am. I don't know how long I have been walking, but I know many days and nights have passed. I was exhausted but fear kept me on my feet.  
  
I walked as if in a dream. The wounds in my back burned and my head swam. Finally, I could go no further and I collapsed. My shaking body pressed into the cool, firm earth.  
  
I heard hoof beats, my mind panicked. 'They found me!' but my body was too weak to move.  
  
The horse came nearer and stopped. A rustle of cloth and light feet hit the ground. There was a soft, musical voice as the footsteps nears. A language that I have never heard, but after a while, my mind began to understand the words.  
  
"Mani naa sina? Hima? Manke lle tuula?"(1)[1] After a while I no longer heard the alien words only the deep soothing voice in words that I knew.  
  
"I come seeking the strange power that I felt, yet I only find a lost child," the voice said, a male voice. The feet stopped beside my head. "Aiya!"(2)[2] A gasp and another rustle of cloth. The newcomer knelt beside me. I saw him through clouded vision, long dark hair falling past his shoulders. A fair face filled with concern bent over me.  
  
"You've been beaten," he stated, a long-fingered hand gently touched my torn skin, I flinch. "You are no normal boy, you blood tells me that, for it is traced with silver." The hand gently turns me over, holding my body up so dirt would not get in the wounds. "And your eyes," he murmurs. His hand brushes my cheek and I stare blankly at this man…no, wait. His dark hair shifts revealing a graceful pointed ear. An elf!  
  
The elf's eyes roved over my face, I know how I must look. Pale, dirt and blood covered, staring up at him as if seeing a dream.  
  
He unclasps his dark green cloak with his free hand. He wraps it around my body; the cloth is sot against my tortured flesh. His eyes search my own as if reading my soul. His cool palm cups my face, his touch soothes.  
  
"I am Elrond Peredhil, (3)[3] Lord of Rivendell. You will be safe in our city, I will care for you wounds," he said softly, now speaking in the common tongue. I do not respond but he nods. He gathers me into his arms, cradling me against his chest and carries me over to his steed, a large brown stallion.  
  
I am lifted onto the saddle and he leaps nimbly on behind me. One arm wraps around my waist, holding me against his body, gently but firmly. The other hand grasps the reigns and he speaks something to the horse, the beast leapt smoothly into a fast trot.  
  
The forest flew by us; eventually I begin to relax. The smooth stride of the horse rocking me…like my mother used to. I was crying, silently, the tears streaming down my face.  
  
Elrond leaned over my shoulder, pressing his cheek to mine. His hand moved up to brush the tears away.  
  
"I feel you pain, but you must first rest and heal. Take refuge in my power, I will protect you, son of the ancient ones," he whispers into my ear, and his lips pressed against my cheek. My head fell back against his strong shoulder, darkness came again.  
  
Once again, I was in a different place. My ruined pants had been taken from me and my body had been washed. I was clothed in a soft white robe, lying in a large bed, silken sheets covering me. My wounds had been treated and no longer hurt so much. Light filled the open room; white marble and crystal walls surrounded me.  
  
A dark hared elf sat on the bed beside me. He was dressed in a long blue and gold robe. Extravagant sleeves covered his arms. He looked down at me kindly, his keen eyes watching my face. Something familiar about him…  
  
"Who are you," I ask in a weak voice. The elf looked surprised.  
  
"I am Elrond, do you not remember me finding you in the woods?" he asked. I suddenly did remember, but he wasn't wearing anything near as exquisite as he was now. I nod and he smiled. "And what may I call you, my young friend?" he asked and I cleared my throat.  
  
"Kalan Sadaya," I answer and his smile widened.  
  
"That is good, at least you remember who you are. I was concerned that you would not after al you have been through," he said solemnly.  
  
I remember then: what happened, the cruel men, my mother… the tears return, but this time I fight them.  
  
The elf noticed and his eyes filled with compassion. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face.  
  
"Oh, little frightened one, I am sorry. I saw in your mind what happened. Let it out, young Kalan, for there is no shame in crying," I begin to cry, his words breaking the dam and the river gushed forth.  
  
Elrond shifted his position and took me in his arms; my head nestled against his shoulder. Desperately, I clutch at his soft robe as if it were my only lifeline as the sobs poured from me. The elf held me tightly, gently rocking and stroking my hair. He murmured soft, elven words into my ear, soothing my pain.  
  
"Its all right, Kalan," he said quietly. Then his voice changed, and his hand grasps my shoulder, he looks directly into my eyes. "Cuiv-de," (4)[4] he commands, his deep voice was lighter, his hand shakes me slightly. "Cuiv-de, Kalan," he says again.  
  
Elrond's face begins to fade. I become aware of a cold chill on my body, my hand stings and my leg throbs.  
  
"Cuiv-de, lle naa kailamar," (5)[5] I fall.  
  
----------------------- [1] 1) What is this? A child? Where did you come from?  
  
[2] 2) Oh!  
  
[3] 3) Peredhil: Elvish for "half-elven", applied to Elrond  
  
[4] 4) Wake-up (I hope…)  
  
[5] 5) Wake-up, you are dreaming (once again, I hope…) 


	5. Awakening

Chapter 5

****

Awakening

Kalan's eyes shot open, their silver depths sparking. Legolas was bent over him, gently shaking his shoulder, looking worriedly down at the boy. He was speaking in elvish.

"More'-lai," he said once more. Kalan blinked, becoming fully awake. He was lying in a cave, a dwindling fire to his right. He had been covered in layers of blankets and could barely move.

He looked up at the fair elf above him, the stormy eyes staring into his own. Kalan looked to the left. Samwise sat there, beside him, also looking quite concerned. Past him lay Frodo curled under blankets, asleep. On the other side of the fire were the other two hobbit, Merry and Pippin, also deep in slumber. At the entrance to the cave sat Gimli the dwarf with Boromir. Kalan, confused, looked back at the elf.

"Legolas, wha-what is it?" he asked, surprised at how weak his voce sounded. He saw the elf heave a sigh of relief and sat back.

"You were dreaming, violently. You frightened Sam," he said nodding toward the hobbit. Kalan looked over at him, Sam nodded.

"You were havin' an awful fit, Kalan sir, sayin' frightful things, groaning in pain, and cryin'…" his voice trailed off. Kalan nodded, as much as he could.

"I'm sorry Sam, I should have warned you: I am notorious for night terrors," Kalan shifted, trying to sit up. Legolas reached out and helped him, leaning him back against the cave wall. Kalan hissed in pain when he moved his leg. Drawing aside the blankets he saw his lower leg was bandaged and some old blood staining the cloth. Kalan then brought his injured hand up to his face, made a fist then extended his fingers.

Sam held out a mug of hot tea. Kalan look it in his uninjured hand, nodding his thanks. He sipped the drink, color slightly returning to his face. His silver eyes swept the cave and its occupants once more, coming to rest at last on Frodo.

"Sam, how is Frodo doing?" he asked, anxiety under his voice. The hobbit looked over his shoulder at his sleeping friend.

"Oh, yes, he's doing much better. Actually he was already awake for a while," when he turned back he was smiling, "and he asked the same thing about you," he said, somewhat amused. A light flush crept across Kalan's face and he looked hurriedly down at his drink.

Aragorn walked into the cave, and noticing Legolas and Sam beside the now awake Kalan, he joined them.

"Well, you finally decided to wake up," he said, crouching down in front of Kalan, who looked up at him, nodding. "You gave us all a good scare, you're lucky that thing was not too hungry," he smiled softly and Kalan smirked. Aragorn sobered and he looked seriously into the youth's face. "I hope you are going to explain **this** to me," he held up his hand, the palm was burned, the skin red and blistered. "This was from your blood. Your **blood** burned me. Now, no normal man's blood burns the skin," Kalan frowned and looked away, but Aragorn caught him again with his piercing eyes. "Kalan? Your blood is not my blood," he stated simply. There were a few moments of silence, Kalan took a long breath before speaking.

"Only the elves and myself can touch my blood and not be burned. We have already established the fact that I am not like you, Aragorn, but I am sorry that I cannot explain to you why. You just need to trust me when I tell that I am with you till the end. No matter what I am, I am a part of the Fellowship." He placed his cup down and reached out to the man, "I cannot tell you anymore, unless the Fates decide that I should. None of you are ready to hear and understand what I would say. I am only asking that you trust me," he looked pleadingly into Aragorn's eyes. Aragorn paused, then took Kalan's hand in his own.

"Your loyalty and trustworthiness was never in question. You nearly died trying to save Frodo, I think that is proof enough," he nodded and squeezed Kalan's hand before releasing him. They spoke no more of it that day. 

*

Frodo woke not long after and, seeing Kalan awake, leapt from his blankets and threw his small form at the boy, overjoyed.

"OOF!" Kalan got the wind knocked out of him by the small flying form. The others laughed as Frodo then proceeded to squeeze the life out of Kalan, hugging him. Kalan laughed as well, ruffling the small hobbit's hair.

Gandalf appeared then; as if out of nowhere and was also pleased to see the two of them awake. He announced that the storm had died down and that they must leave and continue through Caradhras. 

"But Kalan's leg, he couldn't possibly-" Legolas started, but Kalan stood disengaging Frodo's arms from around him

"No worried, Legolas. It only pains me a little. But Gandalf in right, we have already wasted too much time. I can walk, slowly, but we must go. That is if you are feeling strong enough, Frodo?" he looked down at the hobbit.

"I feel much better, and I don't expect to go for another mid-winter swim anytime soon," he joked. Kalan smiled.

"Good, because I will only freeze my arse off for you once," he gave the hobbit a gently shove to get his things. 

**Thanks for the reviews, I am sorry I am going so slowly, I am a VERY bad typist. Hope you all are enjoying the story, next part: see part of Kalan's secret!**


	6. On the Mountain, Events Unfold (literall...

Chapter 6

****

On the Mountain, Events Unfold (literally) 

As the company was only the mountain, the storm flew up again, snow billowed and wind swept it into their eyes. Gandalf walked first widening a path for those who followed with his staff.

Legolas walked with his elven agility and light feet across the top of the snow, passing the wizard. Suddenly, he stopped, listening with keen ears.

"There's a foul voice on the air," he said. Gandalf stopped and listened as well.

"Its Saruman!" he cried. As if confirming his accusation the mountain rumbled and there was a crash. They all looked up.

Rocks tumbled down toward the Fellowship. Legolas jumped out of the way, the missiles barely missing him. Gandalf stepped forward, raising his arms and staff he chanted. His deep voice mingled with that of Saruman, but the fallen wizard's call overtook his own. 

Lightning cracked onto the mountain. Kalan grabbed the wizard, pulling him back.

"Gather close!" he ordered and instantly they huddled close together. Frodo looked up; snow and ice were bearing down upon them. Kalan stood in front of the group. His fists clenched, knuckles white, his face contorted in concentration and…pain?

Kalan cried out and large silver wings erupted from his back, tearing cloth and flesh. They were leathery, like the wings of a bat, but not quite. In some strange way they were beautiful. Kalan spread his arms, stretching the wings over the group and braced himself. 

The snow and ice hit Kalan's back and wings, but he did not give. He grunted, bearing the weight, allowing it to fall off his wings. Eventually the avalanche ended the snow and ice stopped falling.

Kalan gasped and dropped to his knees. Once again his face scrunched in pain, he gritted his teeth. The silver wings folded and shrunk. They were drawn back into Kalan's body, hiding once more under his skin, waiting for the next time they would be needed.

Kalan gasped and choked for air. Frodo moved over to him, seeing how much pain the boy was in. He placed his hands on either side of Kalan's head, gently wiping the sweat from the boy's brow, looking deep into the silver eyes.

"So that's what those two scars are from," he stated in a soft voice. Kalan looked up at the hobbit; his usually calm and cool silver eyes cracked. Frodo remember when he had seen this before, when he had interrupted Kalan's exercises back in Rivendell. Once again he was not looking at the calm and collected young warrior with many secrets. Before him was a lost, hurt and frightened child, in pain and desperate for love. Frodo wanted to take him in his arms, hold and comfort the boy. But before he cold act upon anything, Kalan blinked, changing back into the mirrored secretive warrior.

"I'm all right, Frodo," he said. The others behind them were just coming out of shock. The only one who did not seem surprised was Gandalf, who looked on with a strangely pleased expression on is wizened face. A growl came from Gimli's direction and all eyes turned to him. The dwarfs dark eyes were on Kalan.

"What have we brought into our midst? We trusted this thing, he is probably a spy of Mordor," he stood as tall as he could. "What are you demon?" his eyes narrowed.

Before anyone could think, Kalan was by Gimli holding a sharp-edged knife to the dwarf's throat. Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, like it had when Boromir mentioned his mother. But this time, there was a darkness behind the silver eyes. Kalan glared down at the dwarf. 

"Do not call me such, Gimli. Never **ever** call me that! Or you might find this knife very deep in your throat," his voice was low and threatening. Gimli actually looked frightened, his eyes wide.

Kalan tore away, taking the knife with him and turned his back to the group. No one spoke of this. It was Boromir who broke the silence, voice the other's thoughts.

"We cannot continue on this course, 'tis too dangerous," he said above the wind. Gandalf said noting, but Gimli stepped forward.

"We could go through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin rules there, he would give us a royal welcome," he announced, proudly. Gandalf looked solemn, but he turned to Frodo.

"Let the Ringbearer decide," he said. Frodo was startled, but he thought for a moment.

"We will go through the Mines," he declared. The others nodded and began to turn around. No one noticed the glance between the wizard and Kalan, a sense of foreboding passed between then.

* * *

**Well, that's all for now, hope you enjoyed. PLEASE REVIEW!!! Thanks to all, who already did, love you all! Next chapter: The Darkness of Moria (Ooooo…sounds scary… :)**


	7. The Darkness of Moria

Chapter 7  
  
1 The Darkness of Moria  
  
The Fellowship passed the Walls of Moria, on their way to the mines. Gandalf found the Gate into Moria, its outlines, symbols and runes written in ithildin, reflecting only moonlight and starlight. The words in ancient elvish, written across the arch read: 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.' But they were all puzzled at what the password was. Gandalf tried many combinations of strange languages, spells and incantations. Finally, frustrated he repeated the word 'edro' which meant 'open', his rage rising. Then finally, he sat down on a rock, Frodo beside him, to contemplate their stalemate.  
  
While Gandalf sat, thinking, Merry and Pippin began a game of who could throw a rock the farthest into the dark water beside them. Aragorn, startled by the first splash, turned and caught Pippin's arm in mid throw. His face was dark and wary, he spoke in a hushed voice.  
  
"Do not disturb the water," he said. Suddenly, Frodo, who had been contemplating the door with Gandalf, stood.  
  
"It's a riddle! What's the elvish word for friend?" he asked.  
  
"Mellon," said the wizard. There was a deep rumbling then a cracking sound and the great stone doors opened before them. Kalan stepped up beside the hobbit and smiled down at him.  
  
"Not bad, Frodo," he complimented, Frodo beamed from the praise. The group walked slowly into the mines and was immediately engulfed in darkness. While Gimli boasted about the great Dwarven City of Dwarrowdelf and the accomplishments of the dwarves who lived there, Gandalf set a small crystal into the top of his staff. He breathed onto it and the stone began to glow with a magical light. Boromir looked around him in horror.  
  
"This is no mine, it's a tomb," he whispered. The others looked around, their eyes widening in fright.  
  
All about them were decaying remains and skeletons of long dead dwarves. Most had arrows stuck into them. Legolas stepped over to one corpse and took the back quarrel from its place, studying it.  
  
"Goblins!" he spat and threw the arrow down, drawing one of his own and setting it to his bow. Boromir, Aragorn and Kalan drew their swords.  
  
"We make for the Gap of Rohan, we should have never come here. Now get out, get out now!" called Boromir. The hobbits fearfully backed out through the gate.  
  
Suddenly, something wrapped around Frodo's ankle, dragging him down. He screamed as he was pulled toward the dark water.  
  
"Strider! Kalan!" Sam yelled. The two turned at his call. Sam hacked at the black tentacle holding Frodo with his short sword, releasing his friend. Merry and Pippin dragged the other two back.  
  
Dozens more writhing arms shot from the water and knocked them away from Frodo, taking hold of the Ringbearer once more. It dragged the hobbit up into the air by his furry foot.  
  
"Frodo!" Kalan called and leapt to his aid. The hobbit was being dangled above the water, struggling and screaming. A large monster appeared, surfacing from the foul water below. It opened its great maw, revealing many sharp teeth.  
  
"HELP!" screamed Frodo.  
  
Below, Aragorn, Kalan and Boromir attacked the creature. Kalan's sword sliced through black tentacles, trying to get Frodo. Legolas shot an arrow at the thing, hitting its eye. Kalan severed the arm holding Frodo and the hobbit came tumbling down into the waiting arms of Boromir.  
  
"Get into the mine!" ordered Aragorn and the Fellowship retreated into Moria's dark depths. The creature tried to follow, but its huge mass could not fit through the Gate. It caused a great rock fall and the exit was blocked.  
  
*  
  
"Well, it seems we have no choice, we must brave the great dark of Moria." Said Gandalf, holding his staff, the magical rock casting an eerie glow about them, "We must walk swiftly, for it is a four day journey to the other side. Be on your guard, there are fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." They nodded and prepared to move on.  
  
Kalan stood off to one side, his silver eyes darting around the shadows. He almost looked frightened, high-strung as if something was going to jump out of the dark at him.  
  
Legolas noticed that the boy was not following and he turned back to him. The elf slowly came up to the youth, and upon seeing his nervous expression made sure Kalan knew he was coming. He cleared his throat and reached out to clasp Kalan's shoulder.  
  
"Gildae?" he asked in elvish, using the name the elves gave the boy, "Mani naa ta?"(1)[1] he asked softly. Kalan turned to him, slowly. The muscles under the elf's hand were tense and quivering. He searched the silver eyes seeing an unnatural fear. "Gildae?" he asked again.  
  
"Huine,"(2)[2] Kalan answered in elvish, "It feels like it is closing in around me, trying to swallow me whole," a shudder ran through his body, "Darkness, it drains me, my one enemy,' he stared into the elf's eyes. Legolas nodded, he to felt the strain of being enclosed in the dark.  
  
"Then stay near Gandalf's light, it may help," he offered, but Kalan shook his head.  
  
"No, put the hobbits up there, they are more vulnerable and cant see as well as you and I," he answered, a slight smile on his lips. Legolas nodded, understanding. The two of them hurried to catch up with the others.  
  
**So sorry for not updating in so long!! Thanks for all the reviews, please keep 'um coming! Next chapter, Kalan tells the others what he is and about his past. Please read (if I ever get it up x_x) "Secrets Revealed: Kalan's Tale"**  
  
----------------------- [1] 1) What is it?  
  
[2] 2) The darkness 


	8. In the Mines, Secrets Revealed: Kalan's ...

Chapter 8  
  
In the Mines, Secrets Revealed:  
  
Kalan's Tale  
  
"I have no memory of this place," said Gandalf, looking between the three doorways before them.  
  
Everyone sat down, resting their legs and eating a bit of elven bread. While Frodo was up talking to Gandalf, the others said very little.  
  
Kalan sat with Legolas, his muscles tense, and his silver eyes searched the darkness. It was plain to see that he was unnerved, but no one said anything. Kalan felt someone's/s eyes on him and he looked over to Gimli. The dwarf was glowering at him. Ever since the mountain Gimli had said very little, but had bored his eyes into Kalan's back.  
  
Kalan sighed, knowing what the dwarf was thinking. He stood and walked over toward Gimli. The dwarf turned away, looking in the opposite direction. Kalan stopped when he was beside him, he felt the others watching. He sighed and began.  
  
"Gimli, there is bad blood between us now and it is not helping our mission," he paused. Gimli said nothing and he continued. "I came over here to apologize for my outburst on the mountain. You are not the first to call me such and in doing so, you dredged up old, bad memories," he knelt on one knee before the dwarf. "Gimli, I am sorry, and I wish no ill upon you. Will you accept my apology?" he asked, almost pleading.  
  
There was a few moments of silence, even Gandalf and Frodo had stopped speaking and were watching them. Gimli finally turned to face the boy. The dark look in his eyes was gone, and he smiled beneath his beard.  
  
"Admitting one's faults," he said, "and apologizing for them is the greatest strength in any being. You are a strange one, lad, I'll admit that, but you have proven your worthiness to this Fellowship. And you have proven your strength to me," he reached out and clasped the youth's shoulder. "Your apology is accepted, not accept mine for I spoke I shock and without knowing the facts." Kalan nodded, then started to rise but Gimli restrained him. "However, I think that now you must tell us of yourself, fates or no, for there should be no secrets between friends," he added softly. Kalan tensed and opened his mouth to protest.  
  
"I agree, Gimli," everyone turned to look at Gandalf, who was watching with interest. "Perhaps you should, Kalan," he said nodding to the boy. Kalan gave the wizard a strange look, but then his shoulders slumped and he gave a defeated sigh.  
  
"Well, it seems that I am outnumbered, but you might not understand," he said then sat down with his back against a rock. "I am not quite sure how to start, I guess the best way would be to say it bluntly," he took a big breath, then: "I am the son of a dragon."  
  
Silence.  
  
"A dragon?" said Aragorn, his eyebrows raised. Kalan nodded. More silence, then:  
  
"Well, that explains a lot," said Frodo. "The blood, no need for food or sleep, the wings. But how?" he asked. Kalan took another big breath and began, not looking at any of his listeners. His eyes staring out as if parting the mists of time.  
  
"Just over one and a half thousand years ago, the last of the silver dragons came out of his hibernation. A near millennia had past since the Dragon's War[1] and the Dark Drakes had been gone from this world. Now, there was only one silver left, his common name was Kalith-Duren, his dragon-tongue name is to hard even for me to pronounce," a slight chuckle. "He came upon a human woman walking home from the market. She was the most beautiful mortal he had ever seen. Long ebony hair falling past her waist, dark eyes that held a light that brightened the nighttime. Her name was Aeranna, a lady of the house of Morelain.  
  
"She was suddenly set upon my goblins, awaiting her at a bend in the road. She fought valiantly, as very few women could, but her short sword could do very little against them.  
  
"Kalith leapt to her aid, striking the foul creatures. After the last of the goblins had fled or fell, Kalith turned to the woman. She looked upon him without fear, unlike most who had encountered his kind. She smiled, thanked him and kissed his scaled cheek. It was at this time that Kalith-Duren fell in love with a mortal woman.  
  
"Unfortunately, he was coming to the end of his power and would diminish soon. Dragons do not age physically after they get to a certain growth and number of years. Kalith was over 300,000 years old, not the oldest to live, but close.  
  
"Using the last of his power, he changed into a human male to be with his beloved. They made vows of love, consummated and lived together for only six months. Before the child was born, Kalith-Duren left Middle-Earth, his spirit becoming one with the heavens.  
  
"Three months after, Aeranna gave birth, a boy child. His appearance was mostly that of a normal human babe, except until he opened his eyes. The one physical feature inherited from his father: his eyes were silver."  
  
"It was you!" cried Pippin, excitedly. "The baby was you!" Kalan smiled and nodded. Merry shook his head, embarrassed.  
  
"You have an amazing grasp of the obvious, Pip," he groaned. Pippin looked hurt but settled himself back, waiting for Kalan to continue.  
  
"As Pippin just declared, yes, I was the child. The product of a love bond between dragon and human. My mother raised my as you would raise any youngster. And I was just as troublesome.  
  
"I somehow always managed to get myself into some trouble. And when I got in over my head, she came to my rescue, helped me, scolded me and I learned from my mistakes.  
  
"When I was old enough to understand, she told me about my father. About who and what he was. But unfortunately, we weren't the only ones who knew." Kalan's face darkened, and his eyes grew cold.  
  
"There was a group of fanatics in the nearby village. The proclaimed that the dragons of old would return and destroy Middle-Earth. My recruited many followers. Somehow they found out about my mother and I.  
  
"For years we were harassed, notes left at our door threatening death, rocks thrown through the windows. People screamed obscenities at us, calling my mother a whore of devils and me…a demon…" he whispered the last. Gimli frowned and rested his hand on the boy's knee, offering his sympathy, apologies and strength. Kalan paused, getting his emotions under control before continuing.  
  
"Then they got bold. They came with clubs, torches and swords to our home, I was only fifteen them. They broke in and took my mother, I tried to fight them but I only had a small skinning knife and they were too many, just…too many," his eyes began to fade away, becoming clouded over. "And the fire, they destroyed our home, everything. I tried, but…I-I couldn't," his voice choked and he hid his face, but not before they saw a single tear fall.  
  
This time it was Legolas who offered comfort, his eyes sad, understanding how it feels to be betrayed, for elves are not loved by all. He wrapped his arms around Kalan, sharing the youngling's grief and pain. For a few moments they sat like this, no one spoke, each with their own thoughts. Finally, Kalan got himself under control and he took a large, shuddering breath. He clasped Legolas' arm, silently thanking the elf. Legolas released him and sat beside his friend, but left one arm gently draped over Kalan's shoulders.  
  
"I don't remember how long they held us, perhaps a few weeks. But during that time I saw nothing of my mother. They beat me daily, whipping with cords and leather, tearing my skin. With hands and boots. But they got a surprise when they touched my blood," he smiled coldly, cynically. Aragorn nodded, understanding and flexed his healing hand. "Unfortunately, it only made them madder," Kalan continued. "They hurt me everywhere, then when they got tired of beating me they…" he tensed, his gut spasmed. There was a deep pain in his silver eyes; Frodo felt that it reflected the pain in Kalan's heart. "They did things I would not say in front of you," he breathed deeply, "One day they came in and took me outside. My mother was there, tied to a stake.  
  
"They forced me to watch as they killed her. Five arrows entered her body, but she proclaimed her love for me to the last.  
  
"Enraged, I attacked the men and ran from the village. My wings opened for the first time then and allowed me to escape them.  
  
"For days I wandered aimlessly, my body and mind sundered, and my heart broken, until I collapsed. Fortunately, I was found by an elf who had felt my power and came searching. This elf was Lord Elrond himself from Rivendell. He took me to the elven city and cared for me.  
  
"He helped me mend my heart and come to terms with the pain and guilt I felt inside. I was afraid to get close to anyone, because I felt that I was the cause of my mother's death. Elrond showed me my folly, and urged me to reach out to him and to others. He loved me, was like a father, a brother a friend and…sometimes more…" there was a certain wistful and almost loving look in his eyes. He shook his head and the look was gone. "He taught me how to feel and to love again," he smiled.  
  
"At the age of eighteen or nineteen, I came into my power and ceased to age. After seeing about eighty years and still looking my young and strong self, I met a young woman named Melaina. She too had lost her parents, to a plague not too long ago. She and I were married at Rivendell and she became pregnant with my child, my son.  
  
"But one day, I was up north helping the elves with an orc problem. She decided to go for a ride. I had warned her never to go alone for the land was treacherous around for one who did not know the way. But she went anyway and took a horse not well broken.  
  
"She was thrown, hit her head. Thankfully, she did not feel any pain; she died on impact and with her, my son.  
  
"I was coming home when it happened. I felt her life presence leave my consciousness along with the tiny other. I panicked, leaving the party. I found her like that, was too shocked to even cry. I brought her body back to Rivendell, where she was given a proper funeral. I felt numb, unfeeling. I said nothing, only nodding to those who offered their sympathies. I felt alone again."  
  
* 'I am cursed, I lose everyone I get close to, everyone I love, and who loves me.' Strong arms enfold me, dark hair a curtain to one side. A familiar, deep, melodic voice whispers in my ear.  
  
'I am still here, Gildae. Amin mela lle, ar' amin nauva n'kelaya lle[2]' a kiss against my cheek. *  
  
There was a long silence while Kalan faded into memory. It was Frodo who broke the silence.  
  
"Kalan?" the boy came out of his reverie, looking at the hobbit. "That's quite a tale, and though I don't quite comprehend half of what you said, I am sorry for you," he rested a hand on Kalan's knee. "Your life, almost as long as the elves, has had very few happy moments. I can't say I know how you feel, because I don't. But I will say this, I am glad you shared this with us, for as Gimli said, there should be no secrets between friends," he smiled softly. Kalan sighed and nodded at the hobbit.  
  
"I'm glad I did, I must say it will surely be easier on this mission not having to watch what I say or do," the others nodded.  
  
"Well," said Gandalf, slapping his hands on his knees and rising, "Now that we have that out of our system, perhaps we should continue."  
  
"But, Gandalf, which way?" asked Frodo, the wizard blinked, then looked back at the three doorways, and remembered their predicament. "Oh," was all he said, then made to sit back down.  
  
Kalan stood and walked over to the arches. He sniffed, smelling the air from each one.  
  
"That way," he said, pointing to the left passage. The others joined him at the entrance. Merry looked up at him in awe.  
  
"How do you know?" he asked in wonder. Kalan clapped him on the shoulder, smiling.  
  
"Dragons have very keen eyesight, smell and hearing, even more so than the elves. The air is not so foul that way, which means there is an exit somewhere down there." He grinned and winked at the hobbit. "When in doubt, always follow you nose," he said. They gathered up their belongings and made their way down into the dark.  
  
  
  
***Very sorry for my HUGE gap in updating. School, work and home stuff all came into play and I also have NO typing skill, whatsoever!!! I thank all who have reviewed, especially Hermione Eveningfall me close friend, thanks to you and to everyone for kicking me in the arse to get back to writing. You guys are great, hope you still like the story, I'll update again soon…. hopefully ^_^ Arigato!!!!***  
  
----------------------- [1] OK, here is the confusing part I need to explain: Dragons were once on and the same, but then some became more ambitious and cruel than the others and broke off they became the Dark Drakes, becoming black in color, leaving the silvers, the Light Dragons. There was a war between them near the beginning of Middle-Earth, and the Lights won (of course) with the help of the elves, Istari and the Valar (Silmarillion). The Darks were destroyed (except for a few who escaped, like Smaug) leaving the Lights in peace. However, they were weakened by the war and died off over the years. Kalan's dad was the last. OK go back to the story now!! ^_^  
  
[2] I love you and I will never leave you. 


	9. Battle In The Dark

Chapter 9

Battle in the Dark

As the Fellowship walked through the darkness of Moria, Kalan lagged farther and farther behind. He was getting dizzy and stumbled along weakly. Legolas turned and saw Kalan struggling. The boy looked worse for wear, his face was pale, almost deathly and he was sweating fiercely. Though he looked sick, those strange, silver darted about the shadows, watching for anything, or for nothing.. The elf called for a halt and ran back for Kalan. He took the boy's arm in hand, making him stop. "Kalan, we can stop if you need to," he offered. Kalan, his posture betraying his weakened and diminished state, shook his head.

"No, the sooner we get out of this dark, the better," he said softly. By now, the others had joined them. Gimli grunted.

"Afraid of the dark?" he asked gruffly, but without any malice. Kalan pinned him with his silver gaze.

"I'm a bloody light-dragon, what do you think?" he took a breath. "Darkness is my one weakness; it drains me of my power, the Light that I give off, that keeps me alive, making me weaker." His legs shook and he would have fallen if not for the elf holding him. Legolas took Kalan's arm and placed it around his shoulders, supporting him. "We have to go on, keep going. I'll be fine once I get outside," Kalan said. They did so.

They came upon a room, a stone alter in the middle, light streamed onto its surface from a hole in the roof far above. Gimli, distraught, knelt beside the alter..no, coffin. Runes were engraved onto its surface. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," intoned Gandalf. "I'm sorry, Gimli," he said, sympathetically.

Legolas sat Kalan beside the alter, the boy all but drinking in the light. In a few seconds, he looked almost back to normal. "Gimli, I'm sorry. I never knew him, but I feel your pain like a dagger in my heart. But honor him with the success of this quest," he said softly. Gimli looked upon him with sad eyes but nodded.

Gandalf found a large tome and was reading from it, his voice low and foreboding. "We cannot get out, they have taken the bridge. Drums, drums in the deep, a shadow moves. We cannot get out. They are coming." CRASH! Everyone jumped and Gandalf turned to the source of the noise-a wide-eyed Took.

Pippin stood cringing as the banging continued. It was evident that the young hobbit had knocked something into the well; he flinched each time it banged. Finally it stopped and everyone stood still in anticipation and fear. Finally, Gandalf spoke. "Fool of a Took!" he said in a harsh whisper. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" he turned but a sound stopped him. Boom. A deep, rumbling sound from the well. Boom. Again. All eyes turned to the well. Boom. Boom. Doom. Boom. And a screech of hellish creatures.

"Orcs!" cried Legolas. Boromir ran to the door to close it. An arrow struck the wood and inch from his nose. Aragorn helped him shut the great doors, using two huge axes as bars. There was a great roar. "They have a cave troll," said Boromir, exasperated.

Kalan got to his feet, the light returning his eyes. "Stay close to Gandalf!" he said to the hobbits and drew his sword. Aragorn and Legolas each notched an arrow to their bows and were poised to release. Boromir had his own blade ready, as did Gandalf. An axe cut through the door and Legolas shot and arrow through the hole. An orc screeched in pain and the elf reloaded. "Here they come," cried Kalan as the door broke down. The orcs rushed in, bearing scythes, scimitars, clubs and blades. Gimli brandished his axe, screaming a battle cry. The each broke off, fighting their own group. Aragorn was backed into a corner, wielding his sword in front of him. One orc jumped forward only to his head severed from its body. Even Gandalf had caused the death of many orcs by his sword Glamdring. The hobbits too had joined into the fray, using their long knives as swords.

Kalan swung his sword around, orcs dropping like flies around him. His sword danced around his body, slicing through armor and flesh. His concentration was interrupted by a cry from his right. Silver eyes darted to the source of the sound and saw Sam standing there, petrified. The ground shook. The wall came crashing down and the cave troll burst into the room. Standing at least ten feet high, its great mass seemed virtually unstoppable. A chain encircled his neck and it wielded a huge club. "Sam! Get out of the way!" he cried, trying to break the hobbit out of his terror. Sam just stared up in shacked horror as the troll advanced on him. "SAM!" screamed Kalan. He decapitated an orc and cut the legs out from under another. The youth rushed toward the terrified hobbit. The troll raised its club to bring it smashing down on Sam. Kalan ran straight into the hobbit, pushing them both out of the way before the club struck them. Kalan dragged the shaking hobbit to his feet by the cloak. "Are you alright?" he asked. Sam managed a nod. An orc rushed at them but Kalan's sword cut him in two. "Go, stay with Frodo!" he pushed Sam in the direction of his friend.

Legolas shot an arrow at the troll from where he stood upon a ledge. It bounced harmlessly off the tough hide, but it was enough to draw its attention. Kalan turned to the elf and the oncoming troll. "Legolas! Look out, watch its chain!" whether the elf had heard him or not there was no telling. The monster advanced on the elf, angered. It swung the chain, but Legolas nimbly leapt out of the way. It swung again, hitting the stone pillar to Legolas's left but missing him entirely. Once again the chair came at him, but got wrapped around a pillar. Legolas pressed his foot onto the chain, trapping it there. Then he deftly leapt across the chain like a tightrope and onto the troll's head. He drew his bow back and shot an arrow through the troll's skull. The thing screamed in rage and pain and reached back for the elf but his leapt off before it could touch him. Kalan smirked to himself and turned back to the battle at hand.

The troll whirled his head in rage, but it caught sight of a small figure jumping behind a pillar. Frodo was hiding behind a stone pillar, shaking, knowing the troll was around looking for him. Suddenly a huge roar erupted and the troll's ugly face appeared. He screamed and the troll reached for him. Frodo struck at it with Sting, his elven long knife, but he tripped and fell to the floor. The troll grabbed the hobbit by his leg and dragged him toward itself. "Aragorn! Someone help!" he screamed and stabbed it with Sting causing the troll to release him.

Kalan turned at Frodo's call from where he was fighting off more orcs. He saw the troll grabbing at the hobbit and became enraged. "Frodo!" he cried and finished off the last orc, running toward his friend. Aragorn reached Frodo first, brandishing a spear. He thrust the weapon into the troll's tough hide, but it did little damage. The troll swung his great, tree-trunk like arm, swatting the man aside. Frodo struggled to get to Aragorn's side, but the troll took the fallen spear and knocked the hobbit back. Frodo watched in horror as the troll drew the spear back. "Frodo! No!" he heard Kalan scream. But the troll thrust the spear forward. Frodo gasped, his eyes wide, a pain in his chest and he couldn't get a breath. "NO!!" once again hearing Kalan's outrage. Frodo's vision darkened and floor rushed up to meet him.  
  
Hey! Look, I live!!! trying to get back into writing this fic and the sequal. No better way then to do some renovations! Paragraphs! Who would'a thunk it


	10. Changes and Losses

Chapter 10  
  
Changes and Losses  
  
Seeing Frodo fall, Merry and Pippin cried out in anger and leapt onto the troll's shoulders, piercing it again and again with their blades. They heard an unearthly scream and Gandalf turned to Kalan. The boy's wings had returned, but this time there was something different about him. A light was emanating from Kalan's skin, causing it to look metallic; his hair took on a silvery under-hue. The sword clasped in the youth's hands glowed brightly, its edge keen as if it were new. Kalan opened his mouth and strange words, full of power, anger and rage flowed forth. "Kolekione, Somaru nastu vant-asta!" his silver eyes flashed, "Simata carone-lan!"1 And with that, leapt at the troll, his wings catching the air and he soared with uncanny speed toward the enemy.

The troll had Merry and Pippin in hand and cast them aside like rag dolls. The thing lifted a great foot to smash the hobbits into the floor. But it stopped as it heard Kalan's scream of rage and turned toward the boy. Kalan swung he bright sword, slicing neatly through the skin of the troll's neck. Flying past, Kalan somersaulted, furling and unfurling his wings until he was once again facing the troll. He cried out once more and dove to plunge his sword deep into the skull of the monster. The troll swayed, groaning in pain once before falling to the floor with a crash.

Silence fell upon them all. Kalan turned, flying toward where Aragorn knelt over Frodo's fallen form. Sam had joined them, tears forming in his eyes. Kalan landed lightly, his wings gently wrapping around his shoulders, almost like a silvery, leather cape. Aragorn gently turned Frodo over and the hobbit took a lungful of air, startling everyone. Sam knelt beside his master and friend, clearly relieved. "He's alive," he said and the others nodded.

Aragorn looked at Frodo in awe. "You should be dead. That spear would have skewered a wild boar," he said softly. Gandalf stepped forward, something catching his eye.

"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye," he murmured. Frodo looked down at himself; a shiny metal could be seen through where his shirt had been torn loose. Gimli took a look closer and gasped.

"Mithril," he breathed. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins," he commented. Frodo said nothing, but looked up at his friends, his eyes halting on Kalan. The boy had changed; his wings were wrapped around him, looking like silver armor. His skin and hair holding an unearthly glow and metallic gleam. Kalan's eyes, no longer holding the raging fire, met his own. "I thought you were dead," Kalan whispered. Frodo smiled, seeing the concern and love the half-dragon felt for the hobbit. Frodo hoped his own eyes conveyed the same feelings.

"I'm alright, I'm not hurt," he said. Kalan nodded, then his ears pricked and he looked toward the door. "We must be going, more orcs approach," he said. Aragorn helped Frodo to his feet and they followed the half-dragon out of the room. They ran through the great hall of Moria, the screams and yowls of the enraged orcs assaulting their ears. Kalan stopped. "Follow Gandalf, I'll bring up the rear and hold them off!" he ordered. Groups of orcs were coming at them. Kalan raised his hand. "Tolai nas canto!"2 he called and a white flame flew from his palm, engulfing the orcs. In seconds there was nothing left of them but ashes.

Aragorn grasped the boy's collar, jerking him along, forcing him to follow the group. "Enough of your tricks, dragon, you're not sacrificing yourself today!" he growled and shoved the boy in front of him as they ran. Before they could think, the Fellowship was surrounded. Orcs growled and snarled at them, waving their weapons menacingly. Kalan put Frodo behind him, holding his sword out before him.

A rumble. The orcs stopped their jabbering. Another rumble. The orcs screeched in terror and took off in all directions, fleeing. Another rumble, causing the ground to shake.

"What is this new devilry" asked Boromir. Gandalf and Kalan looked at each other, each holding a look of dark foreboding. Kalan's eyes went to another end of the hall. A light filled that end. Another rumble. Frodo turned to the wizard, fear in his eyes. "Gandalf?" he asked. Gandalf turned to the hobbit.

"A balrog," he said, his voice low, fearful. "This foe is beyond any of you," he turned, "Run!" he cried and they broke into flight. There was a roar, loud, deafening, dark and malicious, but powerful.

The Fellowship ran, following the wizard, feeling the growing heat in the hall. "Quickly! Make for the bridge of Khazad-dum!" said Gandalf, pointing down a corridor. Boromir rushed down the steps and cried out, dropping his shield over the drop off. He swayed dangerously on the edge, swinging his arms, grasping for balance. Legolas rushed to his aid, grabbing the man around his waist and pulling him back from the ledge. The others gathered, the same thought on all their minds: What now?

Gandalf grasped Aragorn's shoulder, turning the man to face him. "Lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near," he motioned into the dark; there was a dark outline of a bridge. Aragorn looked defiant and reached for his sword. Gandalf shoved him roughly toward the bridge. "Do as I say!" he cried, "Swords are no use here!" Aragorn's lips set in a grim line, but he nodded. The others followed him down many flights of stairs. Kalan took the back again, glancing over his shoulder at the growing light. Another roar, the heat was growing.

He heard a cry from ahead of him. "Pippin!" Frodo screamed. His friend had slipped and was now falling through the air. Kalan dove off after the hobbit, his wings sill folded. He grasped the smaller figure, holding him close and unfurled his wings. "Keep going!" he heard Gandalf shout. Kalan held Pippin as he glided toward the next set of stairs. The others had reached the same spot when he lightly touched down, setting the shaking hobbit on his feet. Merry quickly took charge of his younger cousin. They continued their flight, but Kalan could hear Merry softly speaking to his cousin. "Foolish Took, can't even keep your own feet under you," he admonished gently. The jest got a small, quivering smile from the little hobbit.

The group once again was halted for there was a gap in the stairs. Legolas gracefully jumped the gap and turned back to the rest. "Gandalf," he called and held out his arms. The wizard jumped, his feet connecting with the stone, the elf's arms steadying him. Boromir took Merry and Pippin, one hobbit under each arm and jumped across. Aragorn grabbed Sam next, under the arms and threw him across. Boromir caught him. Aragorn then turned to Gimli, but the dwarf held up a hand, staying him.

"No one tosses a dwarf," he growled, and then took a flying leap across the gap. He nearly didn't make it, teetering dangerously on the edge. Legolas reached out and grabbed the thick beard. "Not the beard!" Gimli screamed, but the elf hauled him forward using the think hair.

Back on the other side, the stone began to crumble. Kalan pulled Frodo back and Aragorn just barely jumped backward to safety as the stairs fell away before them. Kalan saw their predicament and opened his wings once more and grasped Frodo under the arms. He glided over the chasm and dropped the hobbit into Boromir's waiting arms. Then he turned back for Aragorn. The man reached out and Kalan took his hands. As Aragorn jumped, Kalan pulled and swung the heavier man across the gap and onto the other side. Kalan cried out in pain and plummeted. Legolas just barely got hold of the boy before he went over the edge.

An arrow stuck out of his shoulder, the black shaft deep into his flesh. Legolas grasped the shaft to pull it out, but Kalan's own hand stopped him. The youth shook his head and snapped off the end, leaving the head still embedded. "Go!" he said, grunting as he was pulled to his feet. More arrows showered down upon them as they ran.

The Fellowship rounded a corner and heat blasted them. Gandalf hurried them along. "Quickly! Across the bridge!" he ordered. Indeed, the Bridge of Khazad-dum was there: a narrow strip of natural stone crossing a great, bottomless chasm. The hobbits crossed first, followed closely by Gimli, Boromir, Aragorn and Legolas. Kalan stayed, turning back to Gandalf, waiting for him. The wizard came to him and pushed the boy toward the bridge. "Go!" he cried. Kalan looked at him, pleadingly. The wizard's gaze met his own and his features softened, he shook his head. "Go," he said again. Kalan ran across the bridge, joining the others on the opposite side.

He turned watching Gandalf come across as well, but the Wizard stopped, midway and turned back again. The heat blasted once more and a dark figure, huge and towering, appeared before the wizard. Flames covered the dark figure, giving it the image a huge flaming mountain. Fiery, red eyes, hot as coals gleamed in the darkness, piercing Gandalf with their gaze. "You shall not pass!" Gandalf cried, holding aloft his staff and Glamdring. "I am a servant of the secret fire, yield under the flame of Arnor," he said in a powerful voice, but the others watched in horror as the balrog raised a huge flaming sword to strike the wizard. A dome of light formed over Gandalf as he spoke. "Go back to the shadow, flame of Undun!" the balrog brought the sword down.

"NO!" Kalan cried reaching out helplessly to his friend. The sword crashed down and broke against the bright dome, also breaking the magical shield. The balrog rose up to its full height and roared, a deep rumbling outcry that shook the very ground beneath them. It took a step onto the bridge, flames shooting up from where his foot connected with the stone.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf declared, striking his staff upon the stone, emitting a loud crack and a bright flash. The beast reared up and took another step forward, now bearing a long whip of flame. Kalan cried out to him.

"Gandalf! Let me deal with it! I can!" he made as to go to the wizard, but Legolas's hand stopped him. As the balrog put its full weight on the bridge the stone cracked and broke. The balrog groaned as it fell into the darkness below. Gandalf let out a long breath and lowered his staff. The rest of the Fellowship sighed in relief. The wizard turned to face them; he looked tired and worn. He took a step forward but a flaming rope caught his ankle and he fell, grabbing onto the stone at th last minute. "Gandalf!" Frodo cried and would have run to the wizard if Boromir had not held him back. Kalan tried to as well, but was stopped by Legolas as the elf wrapped an arm around his waist. Arrows began to fly at them from the orcs along the walls.

Gandalf struggled to get up, but he had no more strength in him. He caught Frodo's eye, then Kalan's. The wizard looked at them, his eyes sad, but his voice still held authority. "Fly you fools," and then he was gone.


	11. Losing Hope Losing Kalan as Well?

Chapter 11

Losing Hope (Losing Kalan as well?)  
  
"No!" Frodo screamed and struggled against Boromir's arms. The man hefted the hobbit up and turned, yelling at the others to get out. The orcs were gathering once more, shooting their arrows down at the group.

Kalan stood there, unable to move. Shock, grief and pain were all mingled on his still glowing face. "Kalan! Come on we must leave!" he faintly heard Aragorn's voice come to him, though he seemed miles away. The others were already up the stair, almost outside. Kalan's face changed, anger replaced shock, hate replaced grief, but the pain remained. He reached back to draw his sword once more, but a strong hand closed over his own. An arm snaked around his shoulders, turning him around. Legolas's face loomed before him.

"You cannot help him now, Kalan. We must go, the quest still remains. Do as you said to Gimli: honor him with the success of this mission," gray-green eyes searched silver ones. The elf pulled the half- dragon along with him, arrows striking the stone behind them.

Sunlight hit them full in the face as the Fellowship stumbled out of Moria. Merry and Pippin had fallen to the ground together, Merry gently holding the other as sobs wracked his small frame. Sam hid his face in his hands as he, too, wept. Boromir restrained Gimli who fought to return to the mines and fight the orcs single-handed. Legolas released the youth; the elf was grieved and distressed, but not willing to cry.

Kalan, too, did not weep, yet he stumbled forth upon the rocks, looking this way and that. Frodo walked on his own, away from the group, tears streaming down his cheeks. Kalan watched the hobbit, a strange look on his face. He then turned to look at the others, taking in all the emotions. Suddenly, a shudder ran through his body and the glow faded from his skin and hair. His head snapped back and he cried out softly in pain. He fell forward onto hands and knees. The wings once more folded and shrank, drawing back into the boy's body. "Legolas, get them up," Aragorn's voice carried over the wind. He walked over the Sam and set the hobbit on his feet as the elf went to Merry and Pippin. Boromir turned to the ranger in anger.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" he cried, anguish on his face. Aragorn swept his arm out, motioning to the surrounding land.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs," he pointed out over the rocks to the south. "We must make for the woods of Lothlorien." Indeed a dense forest could be seen in the distance. Legolas raised the other two hobbits to their feet and Aragorn went after Frodo, calling him back. Hesitantly he did so, tears still falling slowly.

Legolas looked around and caught sight of Kalan, still crouched on the ground, his body quivering. The elf jogged over to him, and gasped as he neared. A large pool of blood, red with a silvery hue, was gathering under the boy. His once glowing skin was deathly pale. Kalan shook once more as the skin closed over the wings.

"Aragorn!" Legolas called over his shoulder then he knelt beside the boy. Kalan shook uncontrollably, his hand going to his wounded shoulder. Legolas gently pulled his friend onto his side and back to lean against his own chest. Aragorn and the others had joined him, Kalan quivered, his silver eyes clouded over. Aragorn and Frodo knelt on either side of him; the hobbit took one of Kalan's hands between his own. Aragorn grasped the shaft of the offending arrow protruding from Kalan's right shoulder.

"This will hurt," he said softly, Kalan nodded. Legolas gently had Kalan open his mouth and placed a piece of leather between his teeth. Then he grasped the boy around his chest, just under the wound, he felt Kalan brace himself. With one quick, deft pull, Aragorn drew the arrow out of Kalan's shoulder. Kalan screamed through clenched teeth and the leather. Legolas tightened his hold around him, as did Frodo with Kalan's hand, trying to ease some of the pain. Aragorn pressed against the wound, this time with a thick leather glove. He studied the arrowhead for a few seconds before he threw it away. "Damn, its poisoned," he growled. Kalan spit out the leather and gasped in a huge breath. "Frodo, tear off a long piece of Kalan's cloak," ordered Aragorn, Frodo released Kalan's hand to do so. "Luckily, I have some athelas to counter the poison, but you still need healing, the arrow was inside too long," he drew out two leaves from his bag and chewed them in his mouth until they were a moist paste. He drew Kalan's tunic down, revealing the ugly, bleeding wound. He pressed the mass to into the hole, causing Kalan to jerk in pain, but Legolas held him firmly.

Aragorn took the strip of cloth from Frodo and tightly bound the herbs to the wound. Kalan began to shake again and Frodo took his hand once more. He remembered all too clearly when he had been in this state, after being stabbed on Weathertop. Kalan's hand felt cold and he rubbed the limp fingers, trying to bring life back into them.

"He's lost too much blood, Aragorn, changing like that didn't help either," Legolas said softly in elvish. Aragorn nodded. "The elves in Lorien can help him, but we must move quickly," he answered, returning to common. Kalan' eyes cleared slightly and he struggled to rise.

"We must go, the orcs - coming of night," he managed to gasp out. His strength failed him and he collapsed back against the elf.

"He cant even stand, how is he supposed to run," said Legolas in a strained voice. He gently smoothed the dark hair away from Kalan's face, noticing then how warm his skin was, telling of the fever burning inside. Merry and Pippin watched, helpless and frightened as their new close friend squirmed in pain and moaned. Kalan coughed and once again tried to rise.

"Yes - yes I can, I must." he fell once more against Legolas, the elf tried to hush him, gently stroking his hair.

"Strap him to my back," Boromir stepped forward, "he is not too heavy, 'tis the least I can do to repay him for everything he has done." He looked down kindly at the quivering youth, no longer the strong half- dragon, just Kalan, hurt and exhausted. Aragorn nodded and Boromir knelt, his back facing Kalan. With the help of Legolas, Aragorn made a sort of harness out of their rope. Ignoring Kalan's weak protests, they tied him into it, and then strapped him to Boromir's strong back.

"You don't have to," Kalan whispered into the man's ear. Boromir brought Kalan's arms around his shoulders and stood as if the youth weighed next to nothing. Then he whispered back.

"Yes I do, friends don't leave each other behind, now hush," he said as they began to walk swiftly. Kalan had little choice in the matter, for he fainted, his head lolling against Boromir's muscled shoulder.


	12. In Lorien: Kalan's Healing

Chapter 12  
  
In Lorien: Kalan's Healing  
  
Swiftly, the Fellowship crossed a field and entered into the Golden Wood. Aragorn led, followed closely by Legolas. Beside the elf were Merry and Pippin, close together and wary. Behind them came Boromir carrying the unconscious Kalan on his back. The man shifted the weight slightly, trying not to jostle the youth too much. But even that small movement caused the boy to moan in pain. He felt the boy's warm breath against his neck, coming in short, and shaky gasps. Boromir glanced over his shoulder at Kalan's face. He was sweating; his skin pale, he felt the smaller body shiver against his own.

Gimli followed with Sam and Frodo, herding the hobbits close. He spoke in a low, cautious voice. "Stay close young hobbits, they say a great sorceress dwells in these woods, an elf witch, of terrible power," the dwarf hefted his great axe. "They say, any who look upon her fall under her spell," he growled. Sam glanced at Frodo who looked back at him, each a bit nervous. Gimli walked on, looking this way and that, mumbling under his breath, "Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox," and stopped dead in his tracks.

An arrow, no two, were mere inches from the dwarf's nose. The others froze as well, as they found themselves in a similar situation. Dozens of sharp arrows appeared from out of the foliage. No one moved or spoke. They were surrounded on all sides by armed elves. From behind a tree, stepped one, a tall elf with long blonde hair. He strode toward the Fellowship. "The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," he said softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. They heard Gimli growl but he said naught. Aragorn looked up at the elf and spoke to him in elvish.

"Haldir of Lorien," he said getting the elf's attention, "we have traveled far, on a quest from Rivendell. We ask for you protection." The named Haldir looked at Aragorn, but said nothing.

"Aragorn," called Gimli, "these woods are perilous, we should go back," a hint of fear creeping into his voice. Haldir looked at each of the company in turn.

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood, you cannot go back," he said in his soft voice.

"We must go one, Gimli," Aragorn called back, and then turned to Haldir again. "One of our party is injured, maybe dying, he is in need of healing," he motioned to where Boromir stood with Kalan. Haldir approached the man who watched him warily. The elf reached out and the man reached for his sword, trying to protect his quivering burden. Haldir met his gaze, looking at him calmly.

"I wish no harm upon him," he said and surprisingly, Boromir relaxed. Haldir reached over Boromir's shoulder, gently cupping Kalan's cheek, raising the boy's head. "I know this one, he is Elvellon, elf- friend," he gently rested Kalan's head back down. "Follow us, the Lord and Lady are waiting," then he turned to walk into the forest. The arrows left, but the group was ushered along by the other elves. Kalan moaned softly, his brow creased, pain evident on his young face. Boromir gently squeezed his arm, trying to reassure him.

Before the Fellowship, stood a tall male elf and to his left was the most beautiful elfess any of them had ever seen. Her long golden hair fell past her waist; she was dressed in the purest of white lace and silk, and a golden band encircled her head. The elf beside her stood tall and proud, his piercing gaze looking at each of them. Legolas had whispered to them that they were Celeborn and Galadriel, Lord and Lady of the Lothlorien.

"Nine there are before me, yet ten there were sent out from Rivendell," he paused, watching them. "Tell me, where is Gandalf for I much desire to speak with him," he asked. No one answered him. Galadriel's eyes looked into Aragorn's.

"He has fallen into shadow," she spoke softly. Aragorn nodded. "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife, stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all," her eyes straying to Boromir, who hurriedly looked away. She moved on, looking upon Sam, "But hope still remains if the company is true," she smiled slightly and caused the young hobbit to blush. "You may rest here, these woods are well protected. You are weary with sorrow and much toil," she said kindly. Aragorn took a step forward.

"Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, one of our part is injured and in great need of healing," he said. Celeborn looked at Boromir and the shaking form he bore.

"Bring him forth," he said. Boromir walked forward and with the help of Haldir and Aragorn, released Kalan from the harness. Kalan remained unconscious but groaned softly in pain as he was moved. Frodo winced and fidgeted, wanting desperately to go to his friend's side. Kalan was gently laid on the cool stone, his head pillowed in Haldir's lap.

Both Galadriel and Celeborn knelt at his side, studying the boy before them. "I have seen this one before, he Elvellon, a dragon's son, saved by Lord Elrond of Rivendell," said Celeborn, the elf looked up at Aragorn. "You must leave him with us tonight, we shall strive to save him," the man nodded and turned away, an elf lead the Fellowship to where they could rest. Frodo remained behind, wringing his hands anxiously as he watched the elves gather around Kalan's prone form. Galadriel looked up at the hobbit, watching him with kind eyes. "Go and rest, Frodo Baggins, your friend will live and your fears are unfound," she smiled. Frodo looked down at Kalan once more then nodded and scampered off after his friends.

Celeborn rested his hand against Kalan's forehead; gently smoothing back the youth's damp hair. Galadriel had moved off to collect some things that would help heal the young half-dragon. The elf lord looked sadly into the young face. One of the other elves had brought a bowl of cool water and a soft white cloth and placed them beside Celeborn. He dipped the cloth into the water, and then wrung it out. He used this to gently wipe Kalan's face, cleaning the sweat, blood and dirt from his skin. He opened the youth's tunic and slowly unwound the bandages around Kalan's shoulder revealing the ugly, deep wound. Had it not been for the poison, the dragonling could have healed himself, this Celeborn knew. Also the time spent in the darkness had sapped his strength. The skin around was red and hot to the touch, the strange blood still seeped from the hole. Because they were elves, their power protected them from being burnt by the dragon blood.

Celeborn took a new cloth and dampened it. Gently, he touched it to the wound, cleaning it. Kalan jerked, and squirmed to get away from the cold touch. Celeborn held him gently, but firmly, murmuring soothing words in elvish to the boy.

"He is very far gone," said Haldir, upon whose lap rested Kalan's head. The elf cooled the dragonling's forehead using another cloth, trying to calm the raging fever. Celeborn did not stop his ministrations, but answered.

"That he is, but not far enough that our power cannot save him," he said. Kalan winced again, his face contorted in pain; a small whimper escaped his lips. Haldir gently stroked the dark waves, soothingly.

"It is hard not to think of him as young, his body is no older than that of a human youth, eighteen years at the most. However, he has seen nearly two thousand years," he said. Celeborn smiled.

"But to elves such as us, he is young. Compared to us, he is a mere child," he responded. Haldir nodded. Galadriel returned and knelt beside her husband. She held two crystal phials, one holding a clear sparkling liquid, the other a cloudy mixture. Celeborn looked over at her. "You think the Light is needed?" he asked in surprise. The elfess nodded.

"Not only is he grievously wounded and the dark poison in his blood, but his Light has diminished. The darkness has sapped him of his strength and there is not enough natural light here to restore him," she opened the phial with the clear liquid. Upon doing this, a bright light shot forth, almost blindingly. "Earendill's light is the only Light able to save him." She reached out and slowly dripped the liquid-light into the wound. Kalan jerked, trying to pull away but Haldir held him still. The light was swiftly absorbed into the wound and the redness disappeared. The wound began to close, until it was only a dark scar. Almost instantly, Kalan's skin lost its pallid look and regained some of its usual glow.

Galadriel restopped the phial and took the other. Haldir lifted the boy's head and opened his lips. Galadriel slowly poured the mixture into Kalan's mouth, the youth swallowed reflexively. After he finished off the whole thing, Haldir laid his had back down. "That will help him to sleep and work away the poison," she said. Celeborn nodded, as did the Guardian. "He has an important to play, however, what his outcome will be, I cannot tell," she rose, followed by Celeborn. "Take him back to his fellows, where he can rest this night," she said to Haldir, and then she and her lord turned and walked away.

Haldir watched as they left, then looked down at the youthful face. The lines of pain had been smoothed away and Kalan was sleeping peacefully under the power of Earendill. Haldir rested a hand on the boy's forehead, the fever had gone and he was no longer sweating. The boy stirred under his hand, and slowly blinked his silver eyes open. He focused on the elf above him.

"Legolas?" he whispered, the elf smiled.

"No, I am Haldir of Lorien, Guardian of the Wood. You are in Lothlorien, young Kalan," he said in a soft voice.

"Oh," Kalan paused, his eyes drifting shut once more. Haldir began to think the child had fallen asleep again, but the eyes opened once more, his brows furrowed in worry. "The others…are they alright?" he asked in a raspy voice. He tried to rise but the movement caused his body to convulse in a fit of coughing. Haldir restrained him by holding the younger one down. After the fit had passed, the elf answered.

"Your friends are safe, they rest not far from here, as you should. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn were able to save your life, but just barely," he stroked the youth's head, trying to sooth him back to sleep. "You must sleep now, Kalan, regain your strength, you are no use to them if you are not well," he said, mildly amused. Kalan said nothing, but his eyelids drooped and his body relaxed. He tried to say something more but Haldir hushed him with slender fingers over the boy's lips. "Hush now, don't argue," ordered the elf and passed a hand over Kalan's face. When he removed it, the youth was deep in slumber.

Haldir lifted the smaller form in his strong arms and carried him to where the Fellowship was resting.

The elves of Lorien had set up small couches and blankets for the Fellowship, one for each other them. Food and drink had been brought and now they rested in solemn silence with each other. In the distance, they could hear elves singing, their fair voices holding an almost unbearable sorrow. Legolas listened intently, as did Aragorn, the two being the only ones fluent in elvish. Once in a while the others picked out 'Mithrandir', which was Gandalf's name the elves gave him.

"What do they say about him?" asked Merry softly to Legolas. The elf's eyes turned to the hobbit.

"I do not have the heart to tell you, for me the grief is still too near," he said sadly, and then turned away. But he quickly turned back, looking beyond the group as his keen elven hearing pricked. He quickly stood and ran. The others turned, confused, but then swiftly joined him when they saw Haldir walking toward them, Kalan in his arms. The elf shifted the youth in his arms, resting the dark head more comfortably on his shoulder. He walked over to one of the plush couches and gently laid his burden down.

The Fellowship gathered around and all asked questions at once. The elf was overwhelmed, but Legolas came to his rescue.

"Hush, all of you!" he commanded in a strong, yet quiet voice. "Lest you wake Kalan," he then nodded to Haldir.

"Your friend will live, he has been healed by the power of the Lord and Lady. However, he will need this night to fully recover," he said to them. Then nodded to Aragorn and Legolas, he left them. Frodo knelt beside Kalan and gently pulled back the bloodstained tunic. To his surprise, the wound was indeed healed, only a scar remained, but it still looked painful. Frodo brushed a few stray hairs from Kalan's face, pressing his hand against his cheek and forehead. "His fever is gone!" he said jubilantly. The others smiled.

"Thank the Valar," murmured Legolas, Aragorn nodded. Kalan's eyelids twitched and he stirred. Slowly blinking his eyes open he focused on Frodo's smiling face.

"Oh, hi Frodo," he said in a soft, sleepy voice. Frodo's smile widened. The others behind him murmured amongst themselves, relief in their voices.

"Oh, Kalan I am so glad you're alright. We were worried that we would lose you," said the hobbit. Kalan smiled weakly.

"Aw, hey. You should know it takes more than a few thousand orcs to kill a dragon, besides, where would you be with out me here, hm?" he said with a lopsided smile. Aragorn laughed out loud and the three other hobbits giggled.

"You're right, Kalan," said Frodo, but then he became serious, "But you still need to rest, Haldir said you're not completely well yet." Kalan nodded.

"Whatever you say, hobbit," said the youth, though he was already falling back asleep, "G'night, Frodo," he said before drifting off. Frodo smiled and brushed through Kalan's hair affectionately.

"Good night, Kalan," he whispered and they went to their own beds.


	13. The Road Forward: The Fellowship is Sund...

Chapter 13  
  
The Road Forward: The Fellowship is Sundered  
  
"Here, turn your foot like this and hold your sword up higher. That's it! Now lets try it again," there was a clash of swords, not heavy like a battle, but light: someone was holding back. Kalan stirred, his eyes twitched. Sunlight speckled his face through the trees. He yawned and blinked his eyes open. 'Well, that was the best sleep I've had in a long while," he thought. By the looks of it, he was still in Lothlorien, the huge golden trees reaching up to the heavens.

He turned his head to the right, trying to find the source of the commotion. There, in a clearing, was Boromir; with him was Merry and Pippin. The man seemed to be giving the hobbits lessons in sword fighting. By the looks of it, he was holding back a great deal, the smaller participants waving and slashing their long knives around unskillfully. They then came up with the idea to attack the man together. The halflings rushed Boromir, Pippin kicking him hard in the shin. Boromir cried out in surprise and hopped on one foot. While he was off balance, they tackled him together, pinning to the ground.

"For the Shire!" they called. Then they all laughed together. Aragorn stood off to one side watching, he too chuckled at their antics. Kalan sat up, using his left arm, swinging his legs off the couch. Slowly and carefully he stood, stretching his neck and back. Cautiously, he probed his wounded shoulder, then stretched his arms when he was satisfied that he wouldn't do any more damage.

"A! Kaime vanime moren-lai, yallume!"1 a light voice said from behind him, laughing. Kalan smiled and turned.

"Legolas," he said, "Lle tela lakwenien?"2 the elf grinned and they clasped each other in warm embrace.

"Gildae," said Legolas softly, "Lle nessa amada. Amin nae dele ten' lle," he said, holding him tighter. Kalan flinched, a slight pain in his shoulder. Legolas felt it and immediately released him. "Gildae, amin hireatha! I forgot." he started; Kalan waved it off, playfully tugging one of the blonde braids.

"N'dele no'ta, mellamin. 'Tis only a little pain," he smiled. Legolas nodded.

"Kalan!" was the only warning he had before a small, overjoyed bundle of laughing hobbit knocked him back onto the couch.

"Oof! Well, it's good to see you, too, Frodo," Kalan laughed. The halfling hugged him fiercely, before standing again.

"Sorry, Kalan. Its just do good to see you awake and well again," he said, grinning from ear to ear. Kalan laughed and levered himself back to his feet. By now, the others of the Fellowship had come together. There were many smiles and arm clasps among them. Merry and Pippin grinned and latched themselves onto the half-dragon, hugging him fiercely. The hobbits had become quite fond of Kalan through their journey and felt no shame in showing their affection. Kalan, however, blushed an amazing shade of red and patted them both stiffly on their heads. He quickly unwound their arms from around himself, and stood back, not meeting anyone's eyes. In doing so he did not see Aragon and Legolas exchange a knowing look.

"You want something to eat?" asked Legolas, causing Kalan to look up, startled.

"I don't need." he started, thinking they had forgotten.

"I know you don't need food," said the elf, cutting him off, "but it might help to have something in your stomach. There is plenty here in Lorien, so you don't need to worry about the rest of us having enough." He smiled, crossing his arms and tossing his long hair over his shoulder, "I don't think even dragons can go forever without food," he added with a devilish look in his eyes. Kalan sighed, defeated.

"Alright, alright. You win, I'll eat something if it will stop you mother-hens from nagging me to death!" They laughed.

"Gandalf's really dead, isn't he?" said Frodo. He and Kalan sat together at the edge of a small pool of water. Kalan absently munched on a bit of elven sweet bread. He looked over at his small companion, studying the hobbit's expression. He thought a moment before answering.

"Gandalf was a great being, an extraordinary wizard and a faithful friend. His physical self may be gone from this world, but his spirit, Frodo," he put a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "His spirit lives on. In what we do, in the success of this quest and in just our very living. He lives on in us, Frodo, in here," he tapped Frodo's head, "and here," he placed his hand on Frodo's chest, over his heart. "Don't dwell on his death, Frodo, he wouldn't want you to. Instead, think of how he was, the memories you have of him in life. The times you spent together in the Shire, its how he would want to be remembered, Frodo," he clasped his friends shoulder. Frodo looked up at Kalan, his eyes sad but no longer holding the unbearable agony of loss. He smiled slightly, and then leaned forward to be embraced by the half-dragon, his friend.

Later that day, the Fellowship left Lorien by way of three small boats. They had said their farewells to the elves and received their respective gifts from Galadriel. Kalan bowed and touched his foreheads, then his lips with his fingers in an old elven farewell and thanks. Galadriel and Celeborn both nodded a secret smile on both of their lips.

The boats left the Golden Wood by a tributary. Aragorn rowing the first with Sam and Frodo, then Boromir with Merry and Pippin. Legolas worked the oar with Kalan and Gimli in his boat. Kalan turned to Legolas.

"Don't think that you are going to row the whole way," he said, warningly, "I'm well enough to do that, at least," Gimli nodded.

"And I, elf," he said gruffly. Legolas smiled and nodded to them. They finally came to the Great River, the current moving them even faster. When night came, they landed the boats on the western shore and camped there. One day, and another night passed this way. It was the third day that the Fellowship passed under the Argonath of Gondor.

"Long have I desired to look up on the kings of old," murmured Aragorn, "Isildur and Anarion, my kin." Everyone looked up in awe at the great stone giants, their arms outstretched, a warning to all intruders with evil in their hearts. The boats were rowed to the western shore once more. They were beached and their supplies were carried out.

"We'll cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot," said Aragorn, keeping with his role as leader. "We approach Mordor from the north," all thought this was a good idea, except Gimli, who proceeded to argue with the ranger in his choice of routes. Kalan shook his head and ignored them knowing Aragorn would win in the end. His sharp eyes caught sight of Frodo, sitting alone, in silence.

"Frodo? What is wrong? You haven't said more than a word or two since Lorien," he asked softly. Frodo looked up at him with sad eyes.

"I am torn, Kalan. I know Boromir and some of Aragorn wants me to take the Ring to Gondor, and help them fight Sauron's armies. But I know in my heart that that the Ring must go to Mordor and be destroyed in Mount Doom. However, I fear to go there and fear for the rest of us if they come with me," he looked down again.

"Well, Frodo, no one can make this decision for you. You are the Ringbearer, only you can choose what to do with the Ring. However, know this: which ever way you choose, I would follow you and so would Aragorn or anyone else here for that matter," he looked down at the hobbit kindly. Frodo nodded.

"I will think on this, but I wish to be alone for one hour. Then I will make my decision," he said. Kalan nodded, understanding.

"Alright, but don't stray far, I will tell Aragorn of this," he stood and helped Frodo to his feet. Kalan smiled down at his small friend and watched the hobbit go off into the forest. Then he went to tell the others.

The hour passed and then some. Kalan began to worry. Also, Boromir was now missing, this worried Kalan even more. Lately, the man had been eyeing the Ring with a hungry eye; he knew it was calling to him. He feared what the man would do if the Ring took him, how far would he go?

"Its been over an hour, I am going to look for Frodo," he said to Aragorn softly, not wanting to worry the others. Unfortunately, Sam had been near enough to hear.

"Mr. Frodo is missing?" he asked, his eyes wide. Before anyone could stop him, the hobbit dashed off into the forest calling Frodo's name.

"Damn!" Kalan cursed. Merry and Pippin also ran in another direction, calling out for Frodo. "Double damn!" he swung his fist into a tree, cracking the bark off, cutting his knuckles.

"I'll go after Sam, if I find him we will look for Frodo together, meet back here," said Aragorn and went after the hobbit. It was then that Boromir reappeared. "Where have you been? Have you seen Frodo?" asked Kalan in an angry voice.

"I have seen him. I tried to convince him to come with me to Gondor," he answered in a small voice, his eyes downcast.

"You what?" cried Kalan. "Damn you, Boromir! Your foolishness may bring about the downfall of us all!" the half-dragon grasped the man's tunic and pulled him around to face him. "You and I will go after Merry and Pippin and guard them. If anything happens to them or Frodo, by the Valar, I'll kill you myself!" and he shoved Boromir in the direction the two hobbits had gone. He turned to Legolas and Gimli. "Find Aragorn, guard him, even if you don't find Frodo, he still has a part to play," and dashed off with Boromir. Legolas looked at Gimli who shrugged. They followed after Aragorn.

"We will never be able to find them!" cried Boromir as he and Kalan ran through the forest, looking for Merry and Pippin.

"Yes we will, they passed this way," he called back. Boromir knew better than to ask how he knew. Kalan ran along, swift and surefooted as any elf. He sniffed the air, following the hobbits' scent of pipeweed. A sudden waft of foulness met his nose and made him reel back. Boromir caught him.

"What is it?" he asked. Kalan shook his head to clear it.

"Orcs," he answered and ran faster. They came over a ridge and were met by a frightful sight. Hundreds of orcs milling about. Most were running toward something, Kalan followed their path with his eyes. "No!" he cried. Merry and Pippin were trapped between two parties of oncoming orcs. The small hobbits held their elven knives out in front of them in quivering hands. An orc charged them with a huge battle-axe.

Boromir passed Kalan and was coming in from the side. The man caught the axe as it fell, using the orc's momentum and stabbed it in the gut with the axe. Kalan took two knives out of his boots and threw them with great precision. They struck two orcs through their throats. Drawing his sword and joined Boromir.

"Get back! Get behind me!" he cried, pushing the little ones back. The man and half-dragon fought back the hordes of orcs, but they were sorely outnumbered. "Boromir! Your horn!" cried as he slashed off an orc's head. The man nodded and reached for his ivory horn, raising it to his lips. It blew a piercing, clear note into the air.

Not far off Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli fought their own battle with the orcs. The elf loosed many arrows, his aim true; the dwarf also had felled his share of the enemy with his axe. The elf saved Aragorn from a gruesome end by placing an arrow into the orc's back without piercing the man it held in its grasp. Suddenly the sound of a horn came to them on the wind.

"The Horn of Gondor!" exclaimed Legolas, Aragorn's eyes went wide.

"Boromir!" and they took off toward the sound.

1 "Ah! Sleeping Beauty wakes up at last!"

2 "Are you finished joking?"


	14. Finale: Paths of Darkness Unknown

Chapter 14  
  
Finale: Paths of Darkness Unknown  
  
Kalan and Boromir were being swarmed by the orcs. Kalan had managed to protect the hobbits but received an ugly gash from his shoulder to elbow. He also was bleeding from a crack in his head where he had taken a blow meant for Merry.

Boromir blew the horn once more, but was forced to put it down as an orc attacked. He was able to fight off that one; he struck it through the side. There was a whistling sound and Boromir jerked, crying out in pain. Kalan turned at his cry, the man had been struck in the chest by an orc arrow.

"Boromir!" Kalan called and tried to find a way to end his fight and get to him. Boromir blinked, still in shock but the adrenaline pumping in his veins kept the pain at bay. An orc charged him, and he swung his sword, decapitating it. Another whistle and he staggered once more. Another black arrow stuck out of his chest. He fell against a tree, looking over to his right.

Merry and Pippin watched in horror, their small bodies quivering in fear. They watched him with sad but hopeful, naive eyes. His little ones. A surge new strength ran through him and he brought his sword up to parry an orc's blow.

Kalan fought on, watching Boromir out of the corner of his eye. He screamed in rage as the arrows struck. He fought all the harder against the enemy. He heard another cry and turned to see the orcs bearing down on the hobbits.

"No! Merry! Pippin!" he screamed, and tried to get to them. Another cry, this one from Boromir. The man was on his knees, one more arrow, still quivering from his side. "Boromi -" something hit him across the head, as he was distracted. The world spun and the ground rushed up to meet him. Blinking, his head throbbing, Kalan lay, dazed on the ground. An orc loomed over him a scimitar poised to strike. Suddenly, he was knocked away by one of his fellows. They growled in guttural tones that Kalan could barely understand. The one who had saved him bent over Kalan, grasping him by the hair. He spoke in slow, halting common. "Silver eyes, you come too. To Isengaurd," he growled. Kalan's vision darkened, it felt like his head was spinning crazily. The orc growled once more and hit Kalan hard. As darkness took him, Kalan saw Merry and Pippin being carried off by the orcs.

Boromir knelt, his sword hanging loosely from his hand. His eyes locked onto Kalan's for one instant. In that time, something passed between them, an understanding, a thanks and an apology, just before Kalan fell into darkness: an omen of things to come.

The orcs picked Kalan up, one draping his limp body over his shoulder. They began their run back to Isenguard. They had gotten what they had come for, or so they thought.

Aragorn and the others had been too late to save Boromir's life, or rescue Kalan and the hobbits. In that small amount of time, Aragorn had sworn an oath to Boromir, saying that he would not let Minas Tirith fall, nor their people fail. He had closed his brother in arms' lifeless eyes, wishing him peace.

And now the tree of them stood on the shore, watching solemnly as a small boat carrying the body of Boromir went over the falls. Legolas started to put the last boat into the water.

"Quickly. Frodo and Sam have already reached the eastern shore," he said, eager to follow. But Aragorn didn't move. He looked out across the lake and saw the moored boat; two small figures disappeared into the foliage. Legolas watched him, and then said, "You mean not to follow them," he stated, not a question.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," he said, but he didn't seem too happy about it. Gimli growled.

"Then it has all been in vain, the Fellowship has failed," he said, angry and frustrated. Aragorn looked at his two companions.

"Not if we hold true to each other," he clasped them each on the shoulder. "We will not abandon Merry, Pippin and Kalan to torture and death. Not while we still have strength left," he went over to his packs and took out his long knife; he sheathed it into his belt. "Leave all that can be spared, we travel light," he looked up at them, there was a rakish twinkle in his eye; a renewed fire. "Lets hunt some orc," then jogged off into the forest.

Gimli looked at Legolas, who looked at Gimli. The dwarf smiled.

"Yes!" and took off after Aragorn, followed closely by the elf.

The large party of orcs ran toward Isenguard, herding along two smaller figures with whips. The two figures were tied at the wrists, stumbling along blindly: it was Merry and Pippin. Another orc carried a burden over his shoulder; the legs and wrists were tied with a heavy rope. No one knew how long they had been running.

Suddenly, Pippin tripped, falling headlong into the ground. The orcs came to a halt, once came over and gave him a brutal kick. Pippin cried out in pain and curled into a tight ball, whimpering. The orcs grunted and growled amongst themselves, then they made camp. Merry was brought forward and dumped unceremoniously next to his cousin. A fiery liquid was forced down their throats and then they were left alone. Merry, breathing heavily, looked over at his companion.

"Hullo, Pip. So you've come on this little expedition, too," he breathed. Pippin didn't answer, but nodded. "I wonder what they'll do with us," said Merry. Another orc came over to them and they cringed, awaiting the beating that they were sure was coming. Instead, there was a thump as the orc dropped a moaning burden onto the ground with them, then he left. Merry shifted and grasped the newcomer's shoulder, turning the body over. The hobbit gasped when he saw the bruised and bloody face.

"Kalan!" he exclaimed. Pippin looked over.

"Really?" he asked, Merry nodded.

"Look," Pip struggled over. Indeed it was the young half-dragon, his dark hair was messy and matted with dried blood. "Well, at least they bound his wound up," said Merry after examining his friend, seeing the crude bandaging on Kalan's upper arm. "I wonder why they took him, too," said Pippin, Merry shrugged. Then Kalan moaned and his eyes blinked open. It took a few seconds for him to focus on the faces above him.

"Merry, Pip. Are you two alright?" he asked in a weak voice. The hobbits nodded and Kalan sighed. "Good, they think one of you has the Ring. Why the brought me along, I don't know," he paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing. "I'll try and keep them away from you, but you have to promise me one thing," he said severely.

"Anything, Kalan," said Pippin, earnestly.

"If you get the chance to escape, go, even if you have to leave me behind. As long as I know you're safe, I'll be alright." Merry was shocked.

"No, Kalan! We couldn't -" he cried and then shut his mouth as Kalan gave him a frightening look.

"You must, Merry! I'll be able to survive anything as long as I know you are safe," he coughed slightly. Merry looked down but he nodded, as did Pippin. "Good, now you should rest while you can. I don't know how they expect me to run with my legs tied, though," he said, smiling slightly, trying to lighten the mood. He was rewarded with a small smiled from the two hobbits.

"Kalan?" asked Pippin in a small voice, "What are they going to do to us?" he asked, his voice shaking. Kalan looked upon his small friend with compassion.

"Not a damn thing, Pip, not if I have anything to say about it," he answered and there was a dangerous look in his silver eyes. Merry though to himself, 'I'm sure glad he is on our side.' Then with a hobbit curled on either side, Kalan rested, but did not sleep. Merry and Pippin drifted off and he watched and guarded their sleep. Kalan thought and listened to the orcs speech, and he dreaded the days to come.

Finis


End file.
